Fall Down Real Far
by Sewer Slider
Summary: TMNT Final Destination Crossover. You can't cheat death, but with friends and enemies alike in danger, the turtles have no choice but to find a way. Challenge fic. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: **New story and a new genre for me. What isn't a new thing for me are the warnings that go here - this fic will contain large amounts of character death, gore, blood, bad language, black humour, angst, morbidity, crudeness and extreme (often random and pointless) violence. It's rated M for a reason folks. Do not read this fic unless you can handle the things mentioned.

This is a crossover fic, TMNT meets Final Destination. You don't have to have seen the films to read the fic. I'll be updating as often as possible, but can't promise set times. Won't be long though!

There are two people to thank for this fic being posted at all. First, the awesomely talented Lioness-Goddess, who beta'd for me and pointed out where I was being vague or had something wrong. Thanks LG! And, this next ranking high in the things I never thought I'd say, thanks to Shredder for posting this concept as a fic challenge and giving me the idea in the first place. And setting the rules it has to live by!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own the turtles. Don't own the Foot. Don't own the Purple Dragons. I don't even have a balloon.

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_I hate this,_ thought Karai as she fought not to slump in her seat and scowl. This was just… _pointless_. There were a thousand other places she would prefer to be than here. Having root canal surgery was just about equal in torment, although it had more going for it since it didn't last as long. But as she was the head of her supposedly deceased fathers Business Empire and since his public image had demanded charitable endeavours, she was stuck here. She was one of the sponsors of the charity involved and like it or not, she had to show her face and look willing.

Still… charity baseball? Baseball was dull enough, but usually she didn't have to pretend she enjoyed it.

She forced something resembling a smile as she looked at the Jumbo-Vision screens and realised that the cameras were panning the crowd. It wouldn't do for her to be seen looking bored and unenthused by the event – even if she was. And the stupid game hadn't even _started_ yet.

The two Foot ninja chosen to accompany her, one on either side, wisely remained silent. Chosen for their relatively unimposing appearance and loyalty to the Foot Clan, it had been necessary to take a guard – the Foot had enemies and although Karai would no doubt be aware of her surroundings, it would never hurt for there be someone to watch her back while she played to those who thought charity rather than appearance was her reason for being there.

Glancing up at the Jumbo-Vision, she saw something that made her mask of serenity slip for a moment, her eyes narrowing in loathing. The sheer size of the man she saw sitting several seats behind her would have given him away, even if she didn't recognise him from the way he moved, the arrogance he portrayed with every gesture that came from knowing that he intimidated most people and could usually 'persuade' those who didn't immediately fear him to do so. She saw him only from the back, but the back was enough.

Her father's former right-hand man. Hun.

The ninjas beside her had also seen him on the screen, taking his seat with an unknown crony beside him. Instinctively they tensed, but Karai made a small hand gesture to still them. There was little Hun could do to them without them stopping him, before he even began or making a scene.

Hissing between her teeth, she forced the pleasant look back on her face. What the hell was _Hun_ of all people doing there?

Hun smirked from his seat as he noticed the stiffening of Karai's body, knowing she must have seen him. He didn't know, nor would he have cared if he had, but he and Karai shared their dislike of baseball. But he had realised she would have to make an appearance and childish though it was, he still enjoyed needling her, annoying her. Let her try to make nice while all the time wondering what his purpose of being there was. He had his own business interests now and anything to undermine those who could become his enemy in the future was time well spent. And no one was watching him except her; he could ignore the action.

"She's seen us," he rumbled to his crony, another member of the Dragons who looked somewhat less threatening than others he employed. Hun rarely needed anyone to watch his back, but he hadn't got where he was today by not taking precautions.

Satisfied, Hun sat back and watched Karai, smirking while imagining her irritation. He had other things to worry about than the Foot these days, but even he deserved to take time out to do something he enjoyed. And annoying Karai had always been high up that list.

Meanwhile, there was another group of people seating in the same section who were there for no other reason than to have a good time. Four of the group were heavily clad in spite of the relative warmth of the day, big coats, caps, shades and scarves, leaving it impossible for a casual observer to tell much about them from a glance. They were accompanied by a much taller man with a goofy smirk, a young woman looking amused and exasperated in turns and a teenage girl with purple hair.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," muttered Leo, pulling the brim of his hat further down and sinking into his chair, trying to look incongruous.

"Dude, chill," piped up Mikey from beside him, arms laden with goodies. "Here, have some nachos. They're laden with melted cheese!"

"If you weren't a ninja, you'd be the fattest turtle on the planet," said Raphael, leaning over Donnie to grab some of the snacks.

"Hey, watch it there!" said Donnie good-naturedly. "You'll spill cheese all over me!"

"Low profile," said April, rolling her eyes from the seat next to Raph. "You're supposed to be keeping a low profile!"

"April, it's _fine_," said Casey, not exactly happy at being seated next to Leo rather than his girlfriend, but knowing it was probably better to have humans between the normal spectators and not-so-normal spectators. "They're not doing anything out of the ordinary."

"And no one's gonna be paying attention to us," added Angel from beside April. "Not once the game begins. And by the time it's over, it'll be dark."

"Yeah, lighten up Fearless Leader," said Mikey, nudging Leo in the side and offering over the nachos.

"Over here!" Casey grabbed for a handful while Mikey settled the rest of his snacks on his knee, glancing up at the hot air balloon hovering above the stadium. The electronic sign on the side extolled the virtue of the charity that the ticket sales were going towards, while various sponsors' logos also flashed up on occasion, always followed by their logo. Mikey amused himself for a moment trying to work out when the first message would pop up again.

"Oh man," growled Raph suddenly, causing Mikey to pull the nachos from in front of Casey, inadvertently spilling nacho cheese on Leo's street disguise.

"Mikey! Watch it!"

Ignoring him, Mike looked at Raph curiously through his shades. "What is it bro?"

"Check it out." Raph gestured to the Jumbo-Vision monitor with an impatient jerk of his head. Don and Mikey glanced up at it, Leo and Casey not hearing and April and Angel talking about something else and not listening.

"Whoa!" Donnie's voice mirrored the sudden sinking feeling that Mikey felt as the cameras swept across the crowd, the view on the giant screens. On the very front row, reserved for the big shots, was Karai.

"What's_ she _doing here?" asked Raph in disgust as Leo finally realised there was something under discussion and looked over to the screen, elbowing Casey to pay attention while Raph got April and Angel's attention.

Donnie suddenly laughed, startling the others. "I remember! Karai's one of the, um, 'interested parties' in the charity. Check the seats of honour! I bet she was invited by the organisers and didn't have a good reason to say no!"

Raphael began to laugh, a deep belly laugh that infected his brothers and friends. "I bet she's regretting it now!"

Leo snorted in amusement. "Yeah, I somehow don't see her as a baseball fan."

"A game, and we get to watch her suffer." Casey held up a hand and Mikey leaned across Leo for the high-five, almost spilling some of the food in his lap. "Score!"

Don shook his head, a smile on his face. "I never thought we'd be glad to see Karai… but I gotta admit, she doesn't look to happy."

"Yeah," said Leo, straightening up so he could see down the stands to where she actually sat. "She looks pretty tense…"

"So go offer her a massage Leo," taunted Raph. Leo glared for a moment, then grabbed a handful of nachos from the tub in Mikey's hand and threw them at his red-wearing brother. Raph jerked back, some of the mess splatting onto his clothes, a couple of the nachos sticking to April's jeans.

"Thanks Leo," she said dryly, picking them off and flicking them to the floor.

"Sorry April," called Leo, his lips twitching slightly as he tried not to laugh at her resigned expression.

Shaking her head, April smiled and stood. "I'm gonna hit the bathroom before the game starts anyway, before it gets too grungy."

"Good plan," replied Angel, also getting up. "Be five minutes."

"Bring back more nachos!" shouted Mikey after them as the pair headed off up the steps.

Before the ladies had gone out of sight, the floodlights highlighting the field lit up, casting the seating into more shadow.

"Women," muttered Raph, eying the severely depleted nacho supply in Mikey's hands.

Mikey snorted. "I bet _Karai_ never has to use the bathroom!"

"Or she does it standing up," added Raph, causing both turtles and Casey to go into fits of laughter.

Leo rolled his eyes behind his shades; still not taking them off although he knew he probably would once the game was safely underway. "You guys are so juvenile."

Donnie went into his familiar 'lecturing' mode. "Actually, there's no reason why women can't go standing up, but it would take a…"

"And how do _you _know Donnie?" Raph elbowed Don, who immediately got flustered.

"I uh, well, it was in that film that time…"

"Oh? You like _those_ kind of films Don?"

Donnie sunk even further into the seat. "It wasn't one of those kind of films! It was something I watched at April's house, 'The Full Monty'!"

"Ah, the _other_ kind of those kind of films!" said Leo, beginning to enjoy teasing his brother.

"No!"

"Or does _April_ like those kind of films Case?" asked Raph with a grin.

"Hey, you watch ya mouth freak-face!" Casey waved a threatening fist at Raph, still half-smiling. "It's a _comedy_."

"So _you've_ seen it then Casey?" Leo tried to set his expression to serious. "How long were you going to keep your male stripper videos a secret?"

"And_ you_ know what it's about Leo," teased Raph. "Anything you wanna tell us?"

Usually Mikey would have joined in the teasing, probably managing to set himself up for a joke in retaliation by speaking without thinking, but his attention was elsewhere. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to listen much to his brothers, instead taking in the crowd around him, the scene before him. He could see the lights illuminating the field, the players not yet there but surely just a matter of time. The Jumbo-Vision changed views, from a wide of the crowd to a close up of a brunette woman of maybe twenty standing and waving as she realised she was on view, revealing a cut off T-shirt and a pair of low-riding shorts. Beside her, a man glared angrily as the crowd hooted and cheered.

"Cute," commented Raph, the previous subject of discussion abruptly forgotten.

Donnie nodded, then remembered himself (or forgot that April and Angel weren't currently around) and added, "I'll bet she's got nothing between the ears though."

"Who cares what's between her ears?" Raph sniggered, ducking more nachos as Leo grabbed another handful from Mikey's supplies and threw them. Mike barely noticed. Something didn't feel right…

"Can the guy talk," said Casey. "Ladies are on their way back."

Mikey turned to see April pause at the top if the steps, stopping to brush some stray hair out of her face. Angel raced down seven or eight steps, closing in on her friends before realising April was lagging behind and turning to shout up at the older woman to hurry.

And then a grinding sound from above caught everyone's attention and as they all looked up, the hot air balloon hit a transmission tower standing on the back of the section in which they sat. There was an immediate backflow of incredibly hot air and from that moment, time seemed to speed up for the turtles.

The initial gust knocked those on the back rows crashing into the seats in front of them and then to the ground. Those having the bad luck to have been standing too close were sent flying, falling. One man, not too tall but with an impressive beer gut, had the misfortune to be standing on the top step nearest the impact and was knocked off his feet, barrelling straight down. He slammed straight into Angel as she was raising a hand to shield her eyes, the two of them crashing down the steps. They hit the step beside the horrified turtles, Angel on the bottom, continued to roll. All they left beside the turtles was a bright smear of blood, droplets raining down on the steps as they fell further.

It took less than five seconds.

Panic hit every spectator, even those far enough away that they would not be affected and as one, everyone rushed for the exit.

Toward the balloon.

April had barely turned around to see what had happened to the hot air balloon before the self-preservation instinct of everyone else took over. She turned back and saw a sea of humanity rushing toward her. She took a step backward, tried to turn… and then the mob was upon her and she was carried along for only a second until someone desperately seeking the exit shoved her aside, to the floor. Those attempting to escape the crush and the flee didn't see a fellow person trying to get up, only an obstacle getting between them and survival. April didn't have the chance to try to get up before scores of people were walking over her, trying to get to safety, most of them not even realising that beneath them there was someone fighting to get up, to breathe…

_"April!"_

Casey stood, unable to comprehend how things had gone so wrong so quickly. Barely ten seconds had gone by since the explosion and now he couldn't see her…

"Casey, no!" Leo grabbed his arm, trying to stop him. "She'll be fine, she'll be going through the exits, we have to get _out_!"

At that point, the balloon began to fall apart. Shards of machinery, propelled by deadly force, flew outwards and the stands. Several of those in the front few rows, who had scrambled onto the field realising that the normal escape routes led them closer to the blazing wreckage, were suddenly cut off as the electronic sign of the balloon hit the space in front of them. Some were lucky; they had already made it away.

Karai was not. Nor were her ninja.

Common sense and instinct told her to run as soon as she knew something was happening – and truth be known, that was quicker than those around her. However, she had spent valuable seconds assessing the situation, playing her role – and by that time, there were people heading over the barrier between her and the field. About to follow, the message board hit in front of them, cutting off their exit, rains of metal thrown into the field before them.

The scoreboard landed directly on top of one unlucky man, the woman fleeing with him screaming as she turned her head – and then ran on, no longer concerned about her companion. A moment later, a flying shard of metal lodged in the side of her head, throwing her in a 180 degree spin just in time to be hit by a second, going less deep but not any less deadly. The woman sank to her knees, blonde hair falling from where it had been separated from her sensible cut by the sharp metal. Then her eyes rolled and she fell unceremoniously on her face.

Above them, Hun and his crony were struggling through the crowds, Hun not caring as he shoved and threw others out of his way in his attempts to get away. His Dragon friend stuck close behind – too close. Hun wasn't exactly concerned about the well being of his associate and hurled a muscular guy as if he weighed nothing, not meaning to hit the Dragon but not caring that he did. The pair of them fell back down the stairs in a tangle of limbs, kicked and stomped by desperate spectators, still alive…

Twenty seconds.

Somewhere within the hot air balloon was an explosion.

Fire blossomed from within the balloon, still airborne, and suddenly the people who had come to watch a charity baseball game had fire fall on them from above as more pieces of the balloon came loose, this time alight.

As the Dragon landed at the bottom of the steps, beside the bodies of two others who had not been so lucky, he shoved the muscular guy aside and looked up, only to see a bright light coming toward him, never realising it was a piece of the balloons structure until it hit him, not with enough velocity to do any damage but with enough to set him on fire…

"CASEY!"

Leo lost his grip on Casey as he used all his strength to shake off the turtle and head off after April, the last place he had seen her. The crowds were thick, screaming, smoke beginning to add to the confusion. And unknown to the turtles, a bottleneck had been created. More people going out than there was room for, jammed up, falling through to be trampled, the occasional person managing to escape with their lives. Those capable of giving out coherent orders were being disregarded by the panicked masses.

"Shit!" Leo made another grab as Casey leapt over the seats, but the mans fear for his girlfriend lent him speed and Leo missed.

"CASEY, YOU BONEHEAD, COME BACK HERE!" Raph roared, the situation confusing him as much as his brothers. They were used to bombs, confusion, panic… but not so many people, not so much pandemonium.

Twenty-five seconds.

Leo scanned the area, trying to see another way out. The board from the balloon had landed in front of the field but it still seemed like a better route than the mess at the exits…

And then he spotted Karai.

She leapt aside, a deadly chunk of the propeller heading her way, acting on nothing but instinct. The same propeller passed above the turtle's head by maybe five inches, going ever closer to ground as Karai rolled under the seats…

And hit the two ninjas she had left behind, crushing their bones and setting their bodies aflame. Immediately, Karai scrambled from beneath the seats, clothes torn, filthy, but alive.

Twenty-eight seconds.

"Someone grab Case!" Leo barked the order and leapt for Karai, seeing something that she missed as she crawled from beneath the seats – another piece of metal heading right for her.

Raph didn't pause, used the tops of the chairs as stepping-stones to go after his vigilante friend. And ahead of Casey, he saw a figure so familiar he had never wanted to see him again – the massive bulk of Hun.

Leo grabbed Karai and threw her aside roughly before she even had the time to register who he was, diving after her. The chunk of metal passed above their heads and slammed into the field.

The stands gave a sickening lurch as the supports beneath began to give way, the pillars weakened by the initial impact, beginning to crack. The movement threw people to the floor, others able to keep their balance scrambling over the fallen, the thought of survival overcoming their compassion for those they ignored.

The lurch also shook the balloon further and more debris fell, raining down. Forced to pause as he fought to keep his footing on the precarious seat backs, Raph yelled a warning – and then chunks of white hot metal from the crashed balloon fell onto the crowd, wiping out everyone by the doors.

Including Hun, who had been there ahead of almost everyone thanks to his ruthless tactics.

And Casey, who was at the periphery as the debris fell.

The sudden heavy hail of metal weakened the stands supports still further and one of the pillars beneath suddenly cracked, causing the entire stand to suddenly_ lean_ to one side. Leonardo, still getting to his feet, was hurled backwards, falling into a twisted pile of metal and plastic that the seats had been forced into. A pole, twisted off at one side and now wickedly sharp, punctured through the side of his neck and punched through the other side. His eyes grew wide as his hand moved to where the skewer had emerged… then his hand twitched and flopped to the floor, his muscles relaxing as blood poured out of him.

_"NOOOO!"_

Don and Mike screamed in perfect unison, a sound that might have been funny in any other circumstances. Raph turned his head, hearing them even over the sound of the screaming and crashes, wondering for a moment what they were shouting about – then seeing a green hand lying in a puddle of blood and realised what had to have happened.

Karai crashed beside Leo only seconds after he was impaled by the spear, avoiding serious injury but bruised and battered. She spared a glance at Leo, giving him a silent thank you for saving her life, before getting down to the business of staying alive and trying to get back to her feet. But the ground was still shuddering and as she glanced up, another piece of the wrecked balloon hit her shoulder, rendering the entire arm instantly numb. Trying to shield her head, she took two steps forward, promptly slipped on Leo's blood and fell back against the mangled wreckage. An almost perfectly square piece of metal, part of a sign advertising the local sport radio station, span in an almost lazy rotation toward her, slicing into her throat and coming to a stop only as it severed through her spine. In what seemed like slow motion, her head fell backward, supported only by a small flap of skin, and her body collapsed to hide the remnants of Leo.

With cold certainty, Raph knew that they would all die unless they moved. Now. No more thinking of anyone else – this was his _family_ and they were dying to save others who would still be in peril. He had to do something, to get Don and Mike away and it was no good to worry about those he couldn't see or those he knew were already dead.

_Like Leo…_

He ran back down, to where his brothers were.

"DON! MIKE!" Raph landed beside them a second after the sign beheaded Karai, Mikey staring after her, in shock. "MOVE!"

Thirty-nine seconds.

A second explosion. The balloon blew outward, filled with helium. The shocks carried down, tampering still further with the integrity of the stands, already buckling and straining under the extra weight and the loss of one pillar.

"Fuck!" Raph threw himself forward as a piece of a billboard from the top of the stands flew toward them. Roughly ten feet across, it sloped down in an almost perfect angle, cutting through those unlucky enough to still live. The three turtles hugged the floor, noting how much warmer it got in even those few moments, as the metal flew above their heads.

"We leave. Now." Raph stood, looking ready to give orders. Instead, another part of the billboard – smaller, but no less deadly – slammed into the back of his head, jerking his head forward. A surprised look crossed his face and for a moment, Mikey couldn't work out what had happened.

"Raph?"

"…uh…."

Raph fell, the wound around the sign barely bleeding at all. Mikey's eyes widened in horror, his hands grabbing for Raph – and then another hand took his.

Donnie.

"Mike, we have to go!"

"But Raph! And Leo!"

"We can't help them, _move_!"

Stumbling, Mikey got to his feet, grabbing Don's hand, more for comfort than for staying together – the smoke had got thick, but they were ninja…

_And a lot of good it did us._

"Forward!" Don pulled Mikey down, toward the field rather than the exits.

"Don…"

"It's the only chance! It's blocked up there!"

Coughing over the smoke that had thickened noticeably, Mike stumbled after Donnie…

Forty-five seconds.

There was another lurch as the stands as another of the weakened supports gave way. Alarmed, Mikey felt the steps seem to give beneath them, crumbling, unstable.

He grabbed Donnie's wrist with his free hand just in time. The floor gave way and Don fell straight down, the only thing between him and a long fall the grip Mikey had on his wrist. Mike was yanked to the ground by Don's weight, but managed to keep from falling into the hole himself – and kept his grip.

"I gotcha Don…."

Mikey tightened his fingers around Don's wrist, the fabric of the disguise Don wore hindering him. The damn material wanted to slip through his fingers. He could see Don's eyes wide, having lost his shades somewhere, his legs dangling over a chasm filled with fire. At some point, a flaming part of the balloon had set off a chain reaction beneath the stands and Mikey's heart sank as he realised that beneath them, it was no safer than where they were now.

"Pulling you up!"

But he could also feel the steps around him complain, knowing they wouldn't hold for long…

Then the flames around Don receded suddenly. Don glanced down, looking back up at his brother with wide eyes.

"MIKEY! It's a backflash, RUN!"

And then Don pulled his way from Mike's hands and let himself fall.

_"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

For a second, time slowed and it was as if Mike could see every movement his brother made as he fell into the pit… and then Don's words took over him and Mike shrunk back even as flames sprang out of the hole where Donnie had been.

One minute.

Mike stood; knowing he had to go somewhere, do something….

Go where? Do what?

He had let his brothers die.

There was another noise and Mikey turned toward it, already knowing what it had to be. The balloon had taken all it could of being airborne and was crashing into the stands.

No way he could avoid it. No way, even if he ran as fast as he could, ducked, dodged – it was too big. It would bury him.

Mikey screamed as the balloon smashed down, the canvas hitting him, his skin immediately overwhelmed by the heat. The agony was immense. He could see nothing, his eyes melting in the overwhelming heat, opening his mouth to scream again and hearing nothing emerge…

…And suddenly, things were different.

Mike gasped, jerking backwards, blinking, feeling the plastic beneath his ass, the snacks nestled comfortably on his lap. His arm was outstretched, the comforting weight of nachos in his hand.

Turning in that direction, he could see Casey Jones grabbing the nachos, shoving several into his mouth.

_Casey buried beneath the remains of the balloon…_

And between himself and Casey, Leonardo, his head just fine, leaning back so Mike could offer the treats.

_Leo got impaled… _

Mike managed a shaky smile. The whole thing had been some kind of awful, crazed daydream, maybe a hallucination. He obviously needed the downtime more than he had thought.

"Oh man," growled Raph suddenly, causing Mikey to pull the nachos from in front of Casey, inadvertently spilling nacho cheese on Leo's street disguise.

"Mikey! Watch it!"

Ignoring him, Mike looked at Raph, telling himself it was a coincidence. It had to be. The _deja vu_ he was feeling would pass. Raph and Leo hadn't said those same things in his – daydream. Or if they had, it was because he knew the way they behaved. Nothing more sinister than that.

"Check it out." Raph gestured to the Jumbo-Vision monitor with an impatient jerk of his head. Don glanced up at it, Leo and Casey not hearing and April and Angel talking about something else and not listening. Mike stared at his two brothers, trying hard to reconcile their presence, telling himself that he hadn't seen Raph hit and killed by the remains of the balloon, that Donnie hadn't fallen into the abyss to save him…

"Whoa!" Donnie stared up at the Jumbo-Vision, Mikey dreading to turn his head, afraid of what he may see, if it would mirror what he had already seen too much but unable to not know, not see. On the very front row, reserved for the big-shots, was Karai.

"What's _she _doing here?" asked Raph in disgust as Leo finally realised there was something under discussion and looked over to the screen, elbowing Casey to pay attention while Raph got April and Angel's attention.

Donnie suddenly laughed, startling the others. "I remember! Karai's one of the, um, 'interested parties' in the charity. Check the seats of honour! I bet she was invited by the organisers and didn't have a good reason to say no!"

Raphael began to laugh, a deep belly laugh that infected his brothers and friends. "I bet she's regretting it now!"

Leo snorted in amusement. "Yeah, I somehow don't see her as a baseball fan."

Mikey slammed his shell back into his seat, hard, almost panting. He had heard this conversation, this exact conversation, minutes before his brothers and all his friends had been engulfed by the tragedy that struck the game.

He looked up at the balloon, noticing it getting ever closer and seeming to_ dip_, flying even lower.

Low enough to hit the stands? "A game, and we get to watch her suffer." Casey held up a hand for Mike to high-five and seemed annoyed when Mikey didn't reciprocate. "Don't leave me hanging!"

"…We have to get out…"

Don shook his head, a smile on his face. "I never thought we'd be glad to see Karai… but I gotta admit, she doesn't look to happy."

Leo gave Mike a curious look. "You alright Mike?"

"Out. We have to go. Now."

"What are you talking about?" "We have to leave…"

"I'm gonna hit the bathroom before the game starts," said April, standing.

"Good plan," replied Angel, also standing.

"NO!" Mike leapt to his feet, suddenly scared out of his wits. No way was this stuff a coincidence. The feeling of dread had settled deep within his chest and although he knew he was probably being stupid, he didn't care. He needed to get out – but more, he needed everyone else to get out. Away from disaster, away from this place, this place that was feeling like the place he would die.

April looked at him, frowning. "Mikey…?"

"We have to go! _NOW_!"

Leo put a restraining hand on Mikey's arm. "Mike, sit down and stop messing about. You're gonna attract too much attention to us."

Mike grabbed Leo's hand and tried to yank him from his seat. "We gotta leave! The balloon's gonna crash! We'll die if we stay!"

"Mikey, shut up…" Raph looked around, realising there were people beginning to look at them.

_"EVERYONE GET OUT! WE'LL DIE IF WE DON'T! THE BALLOON'S GONNA CRASH!"_

"Mike!" Leo jumped up and grabbed Mikey's arms. "Stop it!"

"WE GOTTA LEAVE!"

"Get him outside," said Donnie, the few visible parts of his face a mask of worry. "We'll take him guys, you stay…"

"NO ONE STAYS!" Mike ripped his arms from Leo's, turning to stare at Casey, then at April and Angel. "You don't understand… you'll die if you don't get out…"

"We'll all leave Mike," said April, looking concerned. "We can always come back later on."

"Come on then, _move_!" Mike ran for the stairs, ensuring everyone was coming with him. He opened his mouth to scream another warning – but Raph hit him in the back of the head, hustling him out.

The security guard on the doors gave them a suspicious look as they left before the game even began, Mikey searching for a fire alarm, something that would alert people to leave – but he saw nothing.

He stared at the security guard beseechingly, beginning to speak. "There's gonna be an accident in stand…."

Raph whapped him in the head again and shoved Mikey forward, giving the guard the closest he could to an apologetic smile. "Forgot his meds."

The guard nodded curtly.

"We have to get everyone out!" Mike turned back to the field, only to be dragged away by the others.

"Mike, stop making a scene!" hissed Donnie. "You'll make people notice us!"

Unknown to any of them, Mike's freak out had already alerted people.

Karai, sat trying to look amused, suddenly paused as she heard a familiar voice. _"EVERYONE GET OUT! WE'LL DIE IF WE DON'T! THE BALLOON'S GONNA CRASH!"_

Michelangelo. She'd know it anywhere.

She turned and watched as he was bundled out of the seats, a cruel smile spreading over her lips. If one of the turtles was having a breakdown, was that not information she could use? And she could hide her intentions from the business people by saying the crazy man had concerned her.

Mind made up, she got up and followed them out. The two Foot ninja followed.

Hun barely noticed the fuss in the seats – but he did see Karai and her entourage get up and leave. "Oh no you don't," he growled, getting up and lumbering after her, the Dragon following. For her to leave, something major had to be going down – and he wanted to know what.

There were others who, alerted or distracted by Mikey's ramblings, also got up and left. Five in all.

Outside the stadium, Raph dragged Mike far enough away from the place and whirled him around, getting into his face. The others held back, Donnie and Leo standing by Mike and facing the stadium, Casey, April and Angel watching out from other sides.

"What _was_ that?" Raph snarled, ignoring the fear in his brothers eyes. "If it's a _joke_ Mikey, it's _not funny_!"

"…Not a joke…"

"We've been looking forward to this for weeks and you have to play some stupid prank and…."

Raph suddenly realised that everyone was staring at some point behind him. "What?"

He turned as the screams began.

The balloon had crashed into the stand where they had been sitting not five minutes before. From their vantage point, they could see the sparks, the flames… and from where they had been, knew how many people were still in there.

Raph turned back to Mikey, his face wild. "How did you _know_?"

"Happened…" Mikey seemed on the verge of shock. "I should have tried harder, I should have saved them…"

The four turtles and three humans stared up in shock as in less than a minute, the whole place was engulfed in flames.

"We have to help!" Donnie shouted, no doubt thinking of those they had been seated amongst. He took two steps forward, only for Mike to grab his arm.

Don turned and looked into his playful brothers eyes – eyes that seemed haunted. "There's nothing you can do – anyone can do."

Karai, already outside when the stadium went up, turned and gaped. How had the turtle known? Had he planned this, been part of it? But no, that wasn't their style and there was nothing to be gained from it.

"We woulda been_ in_ there!" said one of the Foot ninja in awe.

Hun and his associate were almost outside when the balloon hit and had no problems getting out, there being no crush when they made their escape. Hun decided that it might be a good moment to get the hell away from there and pretend they had never been near the place.

Fortunate that Karai had chosen to leave.

Hun frowned as he hurried away from the place. Had she known, was this some kind of Foot plot? And if so, what could be gained from it? Even Karai wasn't that desperate to get away from the game.

In the fuss and uproar around the stadium, Karai saw Leonardo suddenly snap back to his senses and start talking hurriedly. She slipped closer, hoping they wouldn't notice on more in the crowd running to or from the arena.

It occurred to Leo that Mikey had been shouting – and any survivors could have heard him. They were in real danger of being detained should anyone recognise them as the ones who left because of what he said, assuming prior knowledge – and their secret would be out.

"We have to get away from here. Right now."

Donnie nodded, looking nauseous. "Can we risk the van?"

"We have to," replied April. "Lucky we didn't park in the car park. Come on, let's hurry."

Karai was close enough that she was able to overhear the last of the conversation – the young girl with the purple hair, who seemed vaguely familiar somehow, hadn't stopped staring at the arena, but now she turned her gaze onto Michelangelo.

"Mikey – how did you know?"

Staring at the ground, looking like he was about to faint, Michelangelo shook his head. "I don't know. I just saw it all and – I knew it was gonna happen. Just like that."

"We can talk about it later," said Raphael, his voice much more quiet and subdued than usual. "We gotta get away before anyone thinks to ask questions."

The group moved away and Karai lost them in the panicked crowds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: **Chapter two is here! Thank you all for your patience with me. What with work, family and other annoying pieces of reality intruding on my writing, I don't always find a lot of time to work on fanfics. As always, feedback is much appreciated.

This chapter is shorter than the last one, but I have my reasons - we'll be back to my long, rambling ways before long!

**&&&&&**

Little was said in the van as the group made their way back to the lair. Occasionally, one of the assembled would give Mikey a curious look, thinking about asking something – but Mike stared out of the window, refusing to meet their eyes. And the reality of all those people dying, people they had been sitting amongst only minutes before it happened, was weighing heavily on them all.

That and the fact they were so nearly all killed.

The moment they entered the lair, Splinter was up on his feet and hurrying to them, the relief coming from him so clear it was almost palpable. "My sons! Are you uninjured? I have just seen a news report saying that there has been an accident at the stadium."

"We're fine Sensei," replied Leo in a small voice that was miles away from his usual confident tones. "Thanks to Mikey."

Splinter gave Mike a curious look and the usually upbeat turtle stared at the floor.

"Um… maybe we outta take Angel home," said Casey with a sudden and uncharacteristic burst of sensitivity. "If it's been on the news, her Grandma's gonna worry."

"Good thinking," said April, heading for the elevator. "We'll see you later guys – and uh, thanks Mikey. I don't know how you knew, but I'm glad you did."

The turtles muttered their goodbyes and waited, knowing that if anyone could get Mikey to talk about how he had known what would happen, it would be Splinter.

"Michelangelo," said Splinter calmly. "What happened?"

Mikey shrugged, finally meeting the rat's eyes. "It was – well, it was really weird Sensei. We were all talking and then April and Angel were coming back from the bathroom and then the balloon crashed and everyone was – dying and then it was all back to normal and…"

Splinter raised a paw and Mikey stopped. "Slow down. You believe you had a – vision?"

"Not really," said Mikey with a frown. "It wasn't like that, not like meditating. It was _real_. It was just like I was there. The balloon crashed into the stands. Someone falling hit Angel and April just – vanished when everyone ran to the doors. Casey went after her and Raph went after _him_, but then Leo went after Karai and he…" He shot Leo a haunted look. "Casey got hit by falling bits and Hun was there too and _he_ got hit. Then Leo fell and a piece of metal went – it went right through his neck. And then Karai got hit too and the Raph – a piece of metal went right through the back of his head. Then me and Donnie tried to get away but the stands collapsed and Donnie fell and I grabbed him but…" Mikey shook his head, his voice breaking. "And then the balloon fell and hit everyone left, I was burning alive…"

Mikey trailed off and Splinter rested a comforting hand on his arm. Mikey gave him a watery smile and continued. "And then suddenly I was back in my seat, giving the nachos to Casey. I was beginning to think I imagined the whole thing, but then everyone was having the same conversations they were having before – when the balloon crashed. And Karai _was_ there. What are the odds of that? And I knew I wasn't imagining things, so I panicked."

There was a moment's silence, then Leo looked at Splinter. "I don't see how Mikey could have known what would happen Sensei…"

"But he did," replied Splinter firmly, noticing how Mikey seemed detached and distracted – he suspected that his youngest son was having trouble dealing not only with what he had seen, but that it had come to pass. "Michelangelo, sit. Leonardo, make tea."

"Actually Sensei, I think I just wanna be alone for a while." Mikey took another long look at his brothers, then headed to his room. Raph took a couple of steps after him, but Splinter put a restraining arm out.

"I think your brother needs some time to think about what has occurred tonight."

"But Sensei…" Don frowned, looking unhappy. "It just isn't possible. The future hasn't happened yet, how could Mikey know what was going to happen? There's no explanation for it!"

Splinter regarded Don gravely. "You have visited the past, have seen possible futures, witnessed other dimensions and yet you would call it impossible for Michelangelo to know enough to save your lives?"

"But Master Splinter, that was different! The Time Sceptre's one thing and the Battle Nexus – but there wasn't anything like that. Mikey just saw…"

"It doesn't matter how it happened," Raph cut in. "Mikey _knew_. Otherwise, we'd be buried under the stadium along with all those others."

There was quiet as they contemplated this, then Leo sighed. "Maybe we ought to check out the TV. See what the news has to say – and if they mentioned the fuss Mikey made in the stands. Because if anyone saw that and escaped to tell the authorities, we could have another problem on our hands."

The rest of the night was spent in contemplative silence as the news footage aired. The tragedy was on every station, solemn presenters estimating the death toll, footage of the burning stadium shown on a live feed. Looking at the building made them all feel queasy, knowing how close they had come to being trapped in there.

Raph kept glancing up to Mikey's room, wondering. The question of _how_ his little brother had known kept floating around in his mind, but he tried to push it away. The _how_ wasn't important. What was important was that Mikey had been delivered a hell of a shock that night if indeed he had witnessed them die. Once or twice, he saw his brother's shadow on the wall, looking out over them but staying out of sight. Figured. If Mike had seen what he said, and Raph had no reason to believe he hadn't, he'd want to keep them all in sight.

_I wish I'd believed him._

The thought intruded on Raph's thoughts over and over. If he'd believed Mikey instead of thinking it was a joke, maybe there was something they could have done to get more people out of there before the balloon had crashed….

"Karai!"

"Huh?" Raph turned to Leo, jolted from his own thoughts.

"We saw Karai at the game. And Mikey said in his – whatever it was, he saw her die. She could have been killed in the accident."

"It'd be the end of our problems with the Foot," muttered Raph, but his heart wasn't in it. No matter how much he disliked Karai, how many problems she had caused their family, he wouldn't wish anyone to die in that mess. He could imagine how it might have been in the panic to escape the destruction.

_Or you could just ask Mikey, since he didn't have to imagine it._

"Didn't Mikey say he saw Hun in his vision too?" Don thought back to what his brother had said, at the same time hating that he'd used the word 'vision' but not sure what else to call it. "Did you see him at the game?"

"Nuh-uh," replied Raph.

"Doesn't mean he wasn't there though," said Leo.

"I don't know what to make of any of this!" said Donnie in frustration.

"You don't have to make anything out of it," replied Leo. "Just accept that it happened – and be glad you're alive.

"Don nodded soberly. "I am, believe me. But I wish…"

"That we took Mike seriously? That we did something instead of running?" Raph slammed a fist into the worn arm of the sofa. "We all do."

"Hindsight is 20/20," Splinter responded. "It is easy to blame yourselves – but you had no way of knowing."

The turtles nodded, eventually drifting off to bed themselves. All things considered, it had been a hell of a day.

Mikey stayed awake.

He watched his brothers from the safety of his room, heard them talking about him. He had no idea how he had known. He _shouldn't_ have known. But if they lived, he was glad he had done.

But he couldn't face them. The way they looked at him, like he was some kind of freak, just because of the damn vision – and why did he have the vision anyway? Shouldn't it have been Leo? Leo was always meditating, always practising, and he would have known what to do. Leo wouldn't have panicked. Leo would have saved everyone.

So many people had died…

It was late – very late – when he went to check on them. He couldn't escape the feeling that they shouldn't be there.

Ninja-quiet, he looked in on them. Leo was on his side, katana in easy reach. Raph was on his shell, snoring loudly. And Donnie lay facedown, his face planted on a book, the light still on. Smiling slightly, Mike turned off the light and left him there.

"They shall be fine, my son."

Mike let out a shriek, then realised it was Splinter stood behind him and grinned, covering his embarrassment.

"You may have awoken Donatello however." Splinter ducked past Mikey and checked. "No, he is still asleep. But you are worried?"

"Of course I am!" Mikey let his true emotions out, something he would never have done had his Sensei not been so understanding. "I saw them die – they would have died! What if it happens again? What if it's not over? I don't wanna be the voice of doom!"

Splinter regarded him calmly. "There is no reason to believe such a thing will happen again. It is not something that happens everyday. And should it occur again, it is better that than the alternative."

"Amen to that," said Mikey fervently. "I just keep thinking… all those people."

"There was nothing more that you could do." Splinter sighed, his eyes distant. "I am just grateful that all of you are safe. Perhaps you should try to get some sleep."

"Yes Sensei," replied Mikey, bowing slightly and returning to his room. For a few minutes at least. His usually familiar surroundings were not the comfort he usually found them, reflecting the oppressiveness of his thoughts back at him. Instead, he crept back out and settled himself in front of the television monolith, being sure to avoid any news channels and keeping the volume on low so as not to wake anyone.

Which is where Leo found him when he awoke a few hours later.

Leo paused on his way to the kitchen, regarding Mikey for a moment. His little brother was sleeping with his head leant back over the couch and the remote still clasped loosely in one hand. Pretty obvious that the previous days events had upset him.

Leo was willing to believe that Mike had seen a premonition of the accident the day before – their continued existence seemed to prove that much. He just hoped that Mikey would regain his sunny demeanour soon and learn that he couldn't be held responsible for what had happened.

_I should be dead by now,_ he thought, still trying to find a way to fit the thought into his head. Dead, not through battle but through mischance. And not just them, their friends and others who had left when Mikey kicked up a fuss.

Enough. It was over. He was just grateful to have this second chance at life.

Quietly, he snuck off and left Mikey to sleep, cautioning Raph and Don to leave him be when they emerged from their rooms far earlier than usual – the events of the day before had robbed them of their sleep. They were happy enough to let him sleep on, guessing he'd been up most of the night.

It was only a minute or so past eight when Mikey suddenly shot awake, head jolting up, dropping the remote control. His foot landed on it a moment later, managing to both change the channel and raise the volume.

"…_Down the waterfall, where ever it may take me…"_

"Mikey! Turn it down, I can't hear myself think over here!" yelled Raph, startled.

"…_I know that life won't break me when I come to go…"_

Mikey snagged the remote and fumbled with it for a second before pressing the mute button, cutting off the singer mid-lyric. "Now can you hear yourself thinking Raph? Wait, there's still no thought!"

"I oughtta…" Raph wandered out from the kitchen and shaking a fist at his little brother. In truth, he was just happy to see that Mike was more like himself, rather than the creepy detachment he had shown the night before.

But Mikey wasn't looking at Raph. Instead he was staring at the darkened TV, trying to remember just what the hell he had been dreaming about before he awoke. It had seemed ominous, but the details escaped him. In spite of that, he still felt that something was wrong…

_Like a disturbance in the force? Get real. Probably still just weirded out from what happened last night._

"Mikey?"

Mike forced himself to pay attention to Raph, who was looking concerned. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine Raph."

"Donnie made pancakes, you want some?"

"You let _Donnie_ make breakfast?" Mike tried to force his usual morning cheer. "Do we still have a kitchen?"

"I heard that Mike!" shouted Donnie from the kitchen. Mike grinned, attempting to shake off that weird feeling. Donnie's cooking skills weren't terrible, entirely passable, but they was a standing joke within the family after he got engrossed in a book while waiting for a pizza to cook and almost burned the old lair down.

"Well…" Mikey pretended to think it over. "I guess since Leo and Raph aren't fighting over the bathroom or foaming at the mouth, they can't be _that _bad. Maybe if I add plenty of syrup?"

"You want me to feed these to the cat?"

"No! I'll save you Klunk!" Mikey stood up and struck a dramatic pose. "For my cat, I shall make any sacrifice! Even eating – _Don's cooking!_"

But he still had a bad feeling as he went into the kitchen to eat his breakfast.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Angel went out early. Every time she tried to sleep, she was woken by nightmares of burning alive in the inferno of the stadium and she had given up on sleep entirely at about 5am. By eight, she was dressed and out of the door.

She savoured every moment of her aimless walk – the colours of the world, the noise of the traffic, the feel of the air on her skin. Her brush with death the day before had made her appreciate being alive so much more. Smiling to herself, she suddenly decided she wanted a coffee. She rarely drank the stuff, but at that moment she craved mocha, with cream, sugar and marshmallows. The kind of coffee that was more of a desert than a beverage. The best place to get one of those was a shop in the mall and glancing at her watch, she realised it would just about be open by the time she got there.

Sure enough, she arrived five minutes after opening and made her way up the escalator to the second floor, where the coffee shop was. Pausing briefly outside the sporting goods shop, she noticed a security guard wrapping yellow tape around a missing pane of glass that prevented the incautious falling from the second floor down to the first.

"What happened?" she asked curiously.

"Some nut tried to steal a baseball bat from there last night," he grumbled, waving at the sporting goods shop. "Smashed up all the glass before we got to him."

"Typical," said Angel, rolling her eyes and leaving him alone, going for her coffee. She bought it and carefully carried the cup from the shop, intending to find a bench and watch life go by.

The security guard was standing by the missing pane, lounging against one of the still intact panes and watching the sporting gods shop. Angel wandered over to him. "You have to stand here all day?"

"Yeah, the glass guy's not comin' 'til eleven," replied the security guard sulkily.

The door of the sporting goods shop suddenly crashed open, causing Angel to jump. Her hand jerked and half her coffee spilled on the floor, burning her hand.

"Shit!" she hissed under her breath, looking morbidly at the spot. The security guard hadn't noticed, still watching the store.

"And another thing!" screamed a voice, startling Angel out of her reverie. A man in his late teens or early twenties had just stomped out of the shop, but the voice came from a woman of the same age stood in the doorway. "You think you can get away with this crap? That you can just come in here – while I'm _working_ – and tell me it's over? You spineless _bastard_!"

"You're making a scene!" snapped the guy, glancing over at Angel and the security guard.

"A scene! I'll show you a goddamn scene!"

"They do this all the time," said the security guard. "She's nuts, but he never learns."

"I mean it this time," said the guy, but he already looked like he was trembling in the face of her wrath.

"How could you do this to me now? After what happened to me last night? That guy with the bat could have killed me!"

_Last night_ remembered Angel, going cold. She had been distracted enough to shove it to the back of her mind, but suddenly it was back, filling her thoughts. She barely noticed the continuation of the conversation.

"I'm sorry," said the guy, sounding nervous. "But I can't do this anymore." He walked away from her, toward the security guard and Angel, perhaps thinking he'd be safer with them.

"You _prick_!"

The guy looked back over his shoulder just as his girlfriend ducked momentarily back inside the shop and came back out with a pack of three baseballs in her hand. She ran away from the shop further to him and threw the baseballs as hard as she could.

And missed.

The baseballs flew past him and Angel came out of her reverie just in time to see them flying at her face. Startled, she took a step backward, her foot landing in the puddle of spilt coffee. He feet went from under her and she fell backward, the packet of baseballs missing her head by inches.

Her butt hit the floor hard and the momentum knocked her upper torso backward – meeting nothing but thin air where the glass was missing.

The momentum caused her to slide over the edge, feet kicking in the air, a startled scream emerging from her mouth…

And suddenly she came to a halt, upside-down, the view below shimmering in her vision – the decorative fountain beneath her, the people walking around, a couple of them looking up. Someone had grabbed her sneaker.

Too bad she hated lacing them tightly.

The sneaker came off and Angel was falling.

The security guard hang tightly onto the pane of glass he had been leaning against before the girl fell, holding the sneaker and looking at it, dumbly thinking of the story of Cinderella, how Prince Charming had been left with nothing but a shoe to remind him of the girl that had so suddenly left…

And then a scream from the girl who had thrown the baseballs, immediately followed by several more from below and he forced himself to turn and look, hoping that the girl had landed okay, maybe broken an arm or a leg, that he could call the hospital and everything would be alright.

Looking over the edge, he could see the people who had been nearby turning away, those too far to see the condition of the girl running toward the scene. With clinical detachment, he could envision what must have happened. She had plummeted facedown, he decided, straight toward the fountain. Her face had hit the fountain itself, disintegrating her features and whipping her body up, snapping her neck. Then she had fallen to one side, probably already dead, landing in the shallow water on her back so that her blooded, ruined features stared up at him. The water cascading from the fountain was already washing away the thick smears on the stonework, the spatter on the sides, the gore that coated what used to be her face.

Then reality crashed in and he turned away, screaming himself, still clutching the trainer and threw up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note: **Another chapter! Seems like I'm beginning to learn how to update a little more frequently. I'd like to give my thanks to all those who have reviewed my recent one-shots, which seem to be growing in my brain all the time... look out for another one in the very near future!

Many, many thanks to the ultra-talented Lioness Goddess, who beta-d this fic and pointed out where I was talking nonsense and where I was rambling about nothing at all.

_&&&&&_

Casey Jones woke up as the phone rang, rolled over – and fell off the couch with a crash. Groaning to himself, he disregarded the ringing while he took stock of his injuries. A minor case of bruised pride but nothing more.

The phone rang off before the answer machine could click on and Casey rubbed at his eyes, trying to get his bearings. He could hear the shower running – April must be up already. No surprise. After what had happened the night before, he would have been amazed if anyone could sleep for long. He'd vacated the bed at three am, worried about waking April with his restlessness after she had eventually dozed off. She'd spent the night looking too pale and barely speaking and he hadn't known what to say without putting his foot into it – as usual. Jokes would have been in bad taste and he had no idea how else to lighten the mood. Or even if he should try. Better just to keep quiet while the news of the carnage played all over the television.

God only knew how Mikey felt.

The television was still on but the sound muted. He'd tried to lose himself in one of his old videos of one of his favourite ever hockey matches, but must have fallen asleep at some point. The video had stopped and the screen instead showed the ruins of the stadium, no longer flaming. In the daylight, the whole scene struck him as even more macabre.

The phone started ringing again.

Rubbing at his eyes again, Casey checked his watch and saw it was almost half past eleven. Evidently they had slept in, but hell, they both deserved it after what they had been through. The sheer enormity of it eluded him. He knew in his head what had happened, but it refused to sink in at an emotional level.

_Probably ma,_ he thought ruefully. She had known about him going to the game. Hell, she'd probably be on his doorstep as soon as she heard, having driven at about a hundred miles an hour to get to him.

With a jaw-breaking yawn, he snagged the phone. "'Lo?"

"Casey?"

Casey frowned. The voice was certainly not his mothers – it was male for a start and vaguely familiar, although he couldn't immediately place it. And he wasn't too tired to notice that whoever it was sounded seriously upset.

"Yeah?"

"It's me."

Robbie, Angel's brother. At least that explained the upset tone. Maybe he had heard about his baby sister's close call.

"Hey dude. I know it was a close call last night but everything's okay now. Angel's fine, so don't go getting all mushy on me."

"Angel's…" Robbie broke off, choking on a sob and Casey frowned. Close call or not, this was over the top.

April came out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around her and another covering her hair. Normally, Casey would have given her a suggestive leer that would have been returned by a half-serious glare, but that morning, between his trouble sleeping, the weirdness of the night before and this strange phone call, it didn't occur to him. April shot him a smile and raised the volume on the television slightly. The news channel was still on and Casey turned away as he saw once again the burned out ruins of the stadium.

"Dude, chill. It was a pretty bad thing that happened last night – but she's fine now. Don't let it get to you."

"Coffee?" April asked quietly, beginning to towel-dry her hair.

Casey nodded, watching as she shot him a grin and wandered over to the kettle.

"There's been an accident."

"Huh?" Casey was jolted back to the conversation, wondering if his friend had been drinking regardless of the early hour. "Yeah, I know, I was there, remember? But we're all fine, everyone's safe, _Angel's_ safe so don't get your panties in a bunch, huh?"

"No – you don't _get_ it. Not last night. There was an accident… _another _accident."

"Accident?" parroted Casey, a cold trickle of unease beginning to run down his spine. "What – how do you mean? What's happening?"

"Angel…" There was another muffled sob on the phone. "She fell. She was at the mall and she fell."

"Jeez!" Casey gripped the phone tighter. "What, she break something?"

"She fell off the second floor onto the fountain Case," shouted Robbie, tearful and yet suddenly furious. "She's _dead_!"

Casey blinked at the phone, suddenly feeling as though all the strength had run out of his legs. He leant against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. "But… but we took her home last night ourselves!"

April was shooting him a curious look, concern etched on her face. Two cups sat on the side, steam emerging from them. On the television, the scenes from the stadium had been replaced by an advertisement for diet yoghurt. The whole scene before him was so _normal_… and yet the telephone was telling him that things were anything _but _normal.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, managing to focus them on the conversation that he had largely blanked out of.

"…Grandma's still in shock," Robbie went on. "And things here are crazy and they want me to go identify… they want…"

"Hang on," said Casey through numb lips. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

He aimed the phone at the cradle and missed, letting it fall of the side of the table. April was there in a moment, beginning to look scared. "What's up? Is it the guys?"

Casey shook his head slowly, trying to come to terms with what he'd just heard. "No… it's Angel."

&&&&&&

"I'm sorry to tell you like this Leo. I just thought it was better for you to hear it from me than on the news later on."

Leo closed his eyes tightly and then opened them again, sighing before speaking into his shell-cell. "I know. Thanks April."

"I just can't believe it, after everything we went through last night – that she lived through all that to be killed in some stupid accident…"

"Whoa, April," said Leo, trying to be calm. "Just – you two go and do what needs to be done there. I'll tell the others."

"Thanks," she replied, sounding tearful. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye April," said Leo absently, shutting off the shell cell and staring at the wall. He knew he would have to tell his brothers before this made the news – and such a weird public death _would _make the news.

_Why did she have to phone and tell me? Why not one of the others?_

The answer was obvious. Because he was the leader. That meant it was his job to be the bearer of bad news, the one who had to take on the burden. He should have known it was bad news the moment his cell started to ring.

He had a feeling that all of his brothers would take the news badly. Probably none of them as badly as Mike. The one thing he had been clinging to during all the weirdness was the knowledge that at least his premonition had saved the lives of his family and friends – and now at least one of the lives he had saved had been snuffed out.

_Someone falling hit Angel…_

Leo frowned as Mikey's words came back to him. She'd been the first to die in his vision and now she really was dead. Maybe it had just been her time.

Not a comforting thought when Mike had seen them all die.

Leonardo pushed the thought away and steeled himself to break the bad news to his brothers.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

Chardonnay Jameson finished her stretches and paused for a moment, a hand towel draped casually around her neck. As usual she was dressed to impress, even if there was no one else around to witness it, casual exercise gear that nevertheless managed to show every inch of the dynamite body that she and her surgeon had worked so hard for.

The flashbacks to the night before were beginning to get to her.

It was supposed to have been _her_ night, the night she was discovered by one of those bigwigs who were attending the baseball game. She had dressed trailer park, tiny denim shorts that left nothing to the imagination and a low cut T-shirt that she tied in a knot beneath her breasts. No bra. She wanted to be _noticed_. Although she wasn't much of a reader, she loved the Pamela Anderson novel _Star_ and the character in that had been discovered in just such a way. That would be a dream come true for her. So she had chosen her clothes with care, knowing that any audience shot before the game would have to include several girls dressed in the same way, cheering and bouncing all over the place.

She had been trying to get the attention of the cameras at the game when two things had happened at once. The big screen had cut to her – and the weirdo in the stands in front had stood up and started yelling. The camera immediately cut to another part of the stadium and just like that, her big moment was over. She'd been on screen less than three seconds and two of those she had been looking over at the shouting man.

It made her _furious_.

She hadn't waited around, merely stalking out of the stands and going to wait near the exit, irritably shoving some gum in her mouth. A few moments after that, the shouting man had been bundled past her by a group and she had considered giving him a piece of her mind – but by then she had been calming down and she decided against it. Now he was gone, there would be more opportunities for her to be on camera. The dream wasn't over.

She had spent a little longer daydreaming about how it might happen. She'd be standing, smiling brightly, her breasts straining against her shirt. One of the businessmen watching would see her and immediately decide she had to be the new face of his product – what the product might be was the least important issue. Beer perhaps, clothing, perfume. As long as it wasn't constipation pills. From there, she would be awarded a lucrative modelling contract, rapidly becoming a household name. That would lead to television shows, maybe a movie or two. She'd be rich, beautiful and famous. Who could want more?

And while she had been lost in her dream, all hell had broken loose and put an end to any hope of being discovered at that game. There had been a stampede for the doors and she had gotten a head start on the others, being as close to the exits as she was. From outside, she had watched as the whole place was engulfed in flames, the balloon hitting the stand where she had been before the strange little man had begun kicking up a fuss.

It was inconceivable that she would have been killed in the accident, but the entire incident had shaken her up nevertheless. On the plus side, she had managed to give an interview to a couple of reporters and even squeezed out a tear or two, without wrecking her make up of course. She had already caught herself on the television and was gratified to see that she looked great against the backdrop of all that confusion.

And her answer machine already had three messages on, from talk shows and human-interest programmes, all of who wanted her to appear on their programmes. As it turned out, this might be the best thing that ever happened to her.

_And not before time_ she thought sourly, looking around her apartment. The work she had expected would flow in the moment she hit New York and changed her name and cup size had been slow. Very slow. The apartment was a dive, containing only a small television and VCR in the corner, a decrepit weight bench in the centre of the room, an armchair and several other workout tools pushed against the wall. The wall that passed as a kitchen area was miniscule, but since she ate nothing more than salads, soups and skinless chicken, it made little difference to her.

But if she played this right, the cramped space and its elderly furnishings would be a thing of the past. She'd live in a mansion, with a pool. She'd have a cook of her own. Everything would be different…

Starting with her interviews.

Smiling, she abandoned her workout and went into the bedroom, which was even smaller than the main room, returning with her jewellery box. She had to look just right. She had already chosen what she would wear – white, form fitting trousers, tight white shirt that exposed her midriff, strappy stiletto sandals. She'd grab a shower in a few minutes, do her hair and make up and then she would be ready for the most important event of her life to date.

But what jewellery to go with the outfit?

White gold, she decided quickly. It went well with white and was classy without being ostentatious. She had to look as if she were shocked and mourning, but unbroken, that the stupid accident wasn't going to destroy her life. Nor was it. She hadn't spared a thought for the people who had been killed in the inferno.

Resting the jewellery box on the television, she opened it and went through the pieces within. Small hoop earrings, a thin necklace with an understated pendant… perhaps a bracelet? And would it make a difference if her watch were silver rather than white gold?

Musing on the issue, she was suddenly startled by a loud thud from the apartment next door, her neighbours moving furniture by the sound. Her hand jerked and the jewellery box fell down the back of the television, rings and baubles scattering everywhere.

"Oh _crap_," she snarled, shooting a hateful look at the wall separating the apartments. Why did this kind of thing always happen?

To get the jewellery, she would have to move half the things in the apartment. Scowling, she dragged the weight bench back; not noticing the way the stand for the barbell shuddered. A few thumps later and it was far enough out of the way, the screw holding the stand to the bench at one side falling out and rolling unnoticed across the floor. The screw at the opposite side of the stand was also coming loose.

Chardonnay pulled the television table aside, debated moving the video and decided against it. The machine rested on the floor and it would make no difference. Irritated, she began picking up the rings and necklaces, cursing as she noticed one of her banana-bars had lost the stone.

Lying flat on the floor, she felt around behind the VCR for the missing stone, wondering if she should even bother. As she did so, she felt something move beneath her hand.

"Ugh!"

She withdrew her hand in a hurry, kicking her feet out in an attempt to get up. One of her flailing feet hit the weight bench and the final jolt was all it needed to knock the second screw loose.

A sound behind her made her roll onto her back and widen her eyes. The barbell fell ponderously toward her. She raised her arms quickly, trying to shield her face, the only thing on her mind protecting herself so she'd look good on the television.

The barbell landed lower than her face though, the weighted part hitting the floor at either side if her with a crash, the metal bar landing across her throat. Not normally a problem… the weights on either side would give her enough room to move from beneath it or at least wouldn't cut off her airway.

But the VCR she hadn't bothered to move was preventing her from lowering her head and further, forcing her neck upward, pressed tightly against the barbell. Black spots danced before her vision as she realised she couldn't take a breath, the terrible pressure of the weight choking her.

Her arms were above the weight, the angle bad. She tried her hardest to lift it, but her shoulders screamed in protest. Her vision getting darker, she tried to push it, roll the weights down her body and off her neck – but the huge breasts that she had paid so much money for made that impossible. There was nowhere for the weight to roll to.

_I can't die like this, _she thought in a panic. _I'm not famous enough yet!_

But she wasn't given a choice. Trapped beneath the weight she couldn't lift, her brain became starved of oxygen within a couple of minutes. Her death at least was rapid.

The phone continued to ring, offering Chardonnay the chance to appear on television and talk about her miraculous survival.

&&&&&&&

Michelangelo stared at Leonardo as the news sank in. Angel was dead. Dead in some stupid accident.

"_Dammit!" _yelled Raph angrily, clenching his fists in rage at the news.

As if responding to the shout, Raph's barbell fell from the weight bench and rolled a little way from it before coming to a stop.

Raph didn't even notice, but Mikey couldn't tear his eyes from it. They hadn't been anywhere near it and it wasn't like Raph to leave it hanging precariously.

"A terrible thing, for one so young," mused Master Splinter. He looked closely at his sons. "But an accident can befall anyone."

"She fell into the fountain?" Mikey's voice was subdued. There was something nagging at him, something he felt he ought to remember…

"Yeah," said Leo quietly "One of those freak accidents, one in a million chance of it happening."

"Poor Angel," said Donnie with a sigh, looking slightly tearful. "She was so young, and after everything that happened last night…"

"_Two_ freak accidents," said Raph darkly. "Seems like someone up there really wanted her out of the way badly."

"That's ridiculous Raphael," said Donnie sharply.

"I ain't _bein' _ridiculous! It's like we're cursed or somethin'!"

"Raphael, enough." Splinter raised a hand before any of the turtles could respond. "The way these events have occurred so close together is – unfortunate. This does not mean they are related to each other. Or to us."

"I'm sorry Sensei," said Raph, eyes on the floor. "It's just – I can't believe it. I thought after surviving through last night, everything would be okay."

"No one is invulnerable, no matter what they live through." Splinter's tone was grave and the rat was obviously weary. He had met Angel on only a handful of occasions but he felt the loss of the young life keenly.

"I'm going to my room," said Mikey abruptly, turning and leaving the others behind.

The other three watched him go, then Leo sighed. "I'll go after him."

He found Mikey lying across his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Mike…"

"Why didn't I know?"

Leo sat on the bed beside Mikey. "Why would you?"

"I knew what was gonna happen last night. So why didn't I know about Angel?"

"Last night…" Leo hesitated for a moment. "Last night must have been a one-time deal. There's no reason why you'd be able to foresee every time someone dies. That'd make you a god or something. And you'd go crazy trying to save the world."

"I fell like I'm going crazy already," replied Mike with a humourless laugh. "I had a feeling ever since I woke up – a really bad feeling. I managed to shake it off after a while, but now it's back again. Something bad's happening Leo. I know it is."

"Mikey, after seeing the accident before it happened, it would be strange if you didn't have a bad feeling. And Angel… what happened to her might make it seem like the feeling was justified. But it's not. It was just – bad timing. Nothing else is gonna happen."

"I thought I was the psychic around here," muttered Mikey, startling the ghost of a smile from Leo. "But I don't know… I'm scared."

"I know Mike," said Leo, resting a hand on his brother's shell for a moment "But there's no reason to think that anything else will happen. What happened to Angel… it's horrible. But it doesn't mean that anything else will happen."

Mikey shrugged, not looking reassured. "How's Casey taking the news?"

"Not well, according to April," replied Leo sombrely. "Y'know, he always treated Angel like a baby sister, always looking out for her. I guess he feels like he's failed."

_Makes two of us,_ thought Mikey.

Leo stood. "I'll leave you in peace, if that's what you want. But it might be better if you didn't stay alone for too long. We need to get through this together."

"Right." Mikey continued to stare at the ceiling as Leo departed the room, wishing he could get rid of the sense of unease that had overtaken him yet again. And memories of Angel kept intruding – her street-tough expression when they first saw her, the fearful look as she searched for her missing brother, the gratitude in her expression when they helped her…

_Enough of this. I gotta take my mind off things._

Climbing off his bed, Mikey grabbed a handful of comic books, thinking they might be just the thing to distract him from thinking about Angel, as well as other issues that were less tangible.

Ten minutes later, he realised that the first comic book was still open at the first page, not a word of it read. Sighing, he stood up and put them away again, turning on the radio in the hope of hearing something on the news about the incident. It should be on around now, he reasoned.

"…_dying of loneliness, motorcycle emptiness…"_

He spun the dial, finding another channel where the news had apparently been on for a couple of minutes. He'd missed most of the main story by the sound – the stadium incident of course. Much as he didn't want to hear it, he wanted to know if there was anything else they could tell him about how Angel came to die in such a bizarre way.

"…still investigating how the accident happened. And this just in, one of the survivors of last nights horrific tragedy, Katie Smith, also known as Chardonnay Jameson, was discovered dead less than an hour ago. It's not clear what the circumstances behind her death are, but sources say that Miss Smith was the victim of an unfortunate accident. More on this as we get it. In other news, a teenage girl fell to her death this morning in a local mall. Authorities are withholding her name until further details emerge, but it seems that she fell due to a missing safety barrier. Mall owners had no comment to make at this time…"

Mike snapped the radio off again, cutting the song off mid-lyric, the unease suddenly escalating to gut-knotting terror. He was driven from his room by a desperate need to make sure his family were all right – and to ensure they stayed that way.

&&&&&&&

As Leo left Mikey behind in his room, he took stock of what was going on in the rest of the lair Splinter was nowhere to be seen, probably meditating in his room, waiting in case any of his sons wished for a private word. Raph was pounding on the punch bag and Leo could see that it wasn't going to last much longer. His emotional brother was obviously trying to transfer some of the rage he felt onto the inanimate object, rage that no doubt would soon turn to sorrow and then Raph would go off to his room or perhaps topside, to brood over things alone.

Raph would speak to his brothers if he had to – but more likely he would go to Splinter, worried as always over public displays of his perceived weakness. Best to leave him alone until that happened.

Donatello was staring through some printouts beside the computer. Leo could tell from his fixed stare that he wasn't really seeing them; they were just there to give him something to do. Of all of them, Donnie's reactions were hardest to gauge. Sometimes he got agitated; sometimes he went quiet and withdrew from everyone. Withdrawal was worse and it looked like that was the way he was going this time.

On impulse, Leo went over to him and cleared his throat loudly to tell Donnie he was there. "What are you reading?"

"Oh, this?" Donnie held up the papers, sounding tired. "Just something I was looking at this morning before…" He let the sentence trail off. "It's statistics about people avoiding disasters. Did you know that the amount of no-shows rises dramatically in cases where the planes later crash?"

"You mean a premonition like Mikey's isn't unusual?"

"There's not much on actual premonitions that I've found yet, just statistics about the people that decide not to board that plane or that train for whatever reason. I was just wondering if I could find any information on how many tickets were sold for last nights game that weren't used."

"It'd be interesting to know."

Without warning, Donnie threw the papers across the desk, several falling to the floor. "Not that it's going to make any difference to Angel now."

"I know Don. But what happened to Angel was an accident. Something like that could happen to anyone at any time."

"So why did Mikey see what was going to happen at the stadium but not what would happen to her?"

Leo frowned. "Don't say that around Mike. He's already asking himself the same question."

"I wouldn't. I mean, I know it's not his fault. But – I just don't see why things have to go like this. It's just so – _stupid_. Falling from the second floor of the mall? What a _pointless _way to die!"

"I know Donnie," said Leo, resting a hand on his brothers shoulder and noting the unshed tears in his eyes. "Its not fair."

"_Life's_ not fair Leo, or hadn't you noticed?" Raph had left the punching bag behind, leaking sawdust in a steady stream and wandered over to them. "Screw this. I'm goin' topside."

Mikey chose that moment to bolt out of his room, wide eyed. Spying his brothers, he ran over to them hurriedly.

"Is everything okay Mikey?" asked Leo, noticing how frightened the youngest looked.

"I…" Mikey swallowed hard. "I've got a really bad feeling…"

"Oh for crying out loud!" Raph shook his head, the confusion he felt just adding to his irrational anger. "That's it. I'm goin' out on my bike."

"_NO!"_

The other three turtles looked on startled as Mikey grabbed his arm, using all his strength to keep Raph in place. "You _can't_ go! You just _can't_!"

"Mikey, I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you don't let go of my arm, I'll…"

"Please Raph." Mikey's voice was low but intense, his eyes staring straight into Raph's. _"Please_. Don't go."

Raph looked back into Mikey's eyes, his anger dissolving in the face of his brother's genuine fear. Suddenly he felt very tired and miserable.

"Fine," he said, pulling away from Mike. "I'll be in my room."

As Raph strode off towards his own room, Mikey stared after him until Leo grabbed his upper arm and pulled him around.

"Mikey… what's going on?"

Mikey shook his head wearily. "I don't know Leo. I honestly don't know."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Note: **First off, I'd like to thank the wonderful Lioness Goddess for beta-ing this chapter! She keeps me from wandering off topic and forces me to clarify when I'm being random. :) Thanks LG! Go check out her stories!

And also, my thanks to Aries Zodiac, who has kindly loaned me her OC's, Foot Ninja Tim and his brother Bob. Although they appear in the story, I must point out that this tale is not canon to the Role Playing on Stealthy Stories, so anything that happens to them over the course of the story has no application in those games.

Finally, a quick note about bike helmets. I've been a bike nut since my earliest childhood and I've never been fond of the helmets that Casey is seen wearing in the toons. Therefore, in my canon, he and any of his passengers wear a full helmet, with facial visor.

**&&&&&&&&&&**

Casey sighed as he strapped the helmet to his head, turning to check on April. She had her own helmet tucked under one arm, her free hand rubbing at her temples tiredly. With one thing and another, it had been a long couple of days. The stadium disaster, Mikey's premonition and now Angel's dying. Shock upon shock; it was beginning to get to both of them.

The scene at Angel's had been depressing, tempered by the traditional awkwardness of no one knowing what to say. The usual platitudes were brought out by a steady stream of well-wishers, friends of her Grandmothers bringing over food in what Casey observed as being some weird female ritual – he remembered the same thing happening after his father had died, as if the family would be too absorbed to worry about something as mundane as cooking. Ryan's friends had come over too, most of them offering stilted condolences and giving him self-conscious, one-armed hugs. One teenage girl from Angel's school had come over, more an acquaintance than a close friend, and sobbed and wailed so theatrically that Casey was sorely tempted to throw the silly bitch out on her ass.

Without April, he couldn't have handled all the things he had gone over to do. It was April who took the food from the well-wishers, making cups of hot, sweet tea for both Angel's Grandmother and her brother as they sat in a state of shock, responding to condolences as if drugged. April had managed to calm the hysterical teen down, a few sharp words and careful phrases breaking through the girl self-pity. And April who had reminded Casey gently about the people they had to call regarding the funeral, although Casey had made those calls himself.

Eventually though, things seemed to have settled down. Angel's Grandmother had been ushered to bed and was sleeping uneasily. Ryan had the support of several of his friends, who were in their own ways trying to help. Angel's body had been scheduled for release to the funeral parlour the next day, when no doubt the machinery of death would begin again. More calls to make, people to tell, flowers to arrange, headstone, service.

Suddenly wearied by the whole thing, Casey put an arm around April. It wasn't what they had spent the day doing – it was the thought of the whole thing starting again tomorrow, that still more beaurocracy had to be met before they could let the poor kid rest in peace.

_After all_, he thought bitterly. _Who the fuck makes arrangements on the chance of a perfectly healthy fifteen year old girl dying?_

He raised the visor on his helmet and spoke quietly to April, wrapping his other arm around her and hugging her. "Thanks for today."

"It's okay Casey," said April, her free arm going around his waist, resting her head against his chest. "At least we were able to help."

"For all the good it does," replied Casey, some of the helpless anger he felt showing in his voice. "We shouldn't have to be arranging any of this at all – it shouldn't have happened…" He deflated, conceding that no amount of anger was going to change anything. "I wish there was something we could do or say or _something_ to make things better."

April nodded, Casey feeling the movement rather than seeing it. Then she pulled back, stood on her toes and planted a kiss on his mouth through the raised visor of his helmet.

"You're a good man Casey Jones."

Casey smiled, reflecting that even if he never knew the right thing to say, April always did.

"C'mon babe, let's go home." He took the helmet from her and helped her put it on, tightening the straps himself. Angel's accident was making him hyper-aware of all the things that could happen and until the feeling wore off, he had the feeling he'd be making damn sure that April was taking all the precautions she could.

He pulled on his thick leather gloves and got the bike started while April did the same and climbed on behind him. Casey took off at a much slower speed than usual, far more cautiously than his typical breakneck pace. He just wanted to get April home and safe, spend some time forgetting the last few crazy days.

April wrapped his arms around him and in spite of the events that played on his mind; he began to feel almost optimistic. Maybe it was foolish, but in the middle of all the death that had surrounded them lately, he was starting to really appreciate the good things that were in his life.

They rode on for a while, heading for Second Time Around. Casey loosened up enough to weave around the traffic in his way, beginning to relax. It had been a long, horrible day but at least it was over. And if that wave of anger came over him again – well, there was always some punks who terrorised the innocent and he could put a stop to some of that perhaps. It was what he did. Let someone who wasn't innocent suffer the consequences.

It was probably a bad idea – Casey knew himself well enough to know that if he got lost in that cloud of anger, if he went too far one night, he would never be able to live with himself. But at least it was _action_.

April's arms tightened around his waist and he smiled to himself as the bike rode onto the bridge. Or perhaps he would let all that go for tonight and just enjoy the company of his girlfriend, show her just how much he appreciated her. She'd been a tower of strength to him. He didn't know if it was the close calls of the last few days or her actions, or the realisation of how people could be taken away at any time, but he felt even more strongly that if love really did exist, then it was probably the term that applied to how he felt about April…

Behind him there was a noise, metal grinding against metal.

Glancing over his shoulder, Casey saw April doing likewise and beyond her, a car that had been shunted to one side by a truck. The truck was the flat-bed type, carrying recently chopped trees into the city, presumably for use in a furniture factory or similar. With clinical detachment, time seemed to slow for Casey and perception sharpened, so he could see the panicked face of the driver in the cab, face frozen in a grimace. The truck continued to advance and he realised that the driver _couldn't_ stop. The brakes had somehow failed.

And then the sound of a horn filled the air and time sped up again.

Casey turned his head back to the road ahead of him, realising that how close the truck was didn't matter – if he wiped them out by hitting the car in front, there was no chance at all. The cars ahead of him suddenly accelerated, some trying evasive driving although the truck was not as yet near them. There was another crunch of tortured metal as one panicked driver failed to realise that no matter how fast he went, he could go only as far as the car in front. Immediately, cars began to pile up against the wreck, some skidding to avoid colliding, blocking the road.

"Shit!"

April heard Casey's exclamation as she stared over her shoulder. The truck was gaining, the driver leaning on the horn, the sound seeming to fill the whole world, warning them of the impossibility of the truck stopping before it reached them.

_Why THIS after all that's happened? Why do we never get a break?_

And then the driver of the truck leaned out of sight and the trucks tyres locked, sending up smoke as the tyres gripped the concrete. The driver had hit the handbrake.

The truck span wildly out of control, heading for the side of the bridge. There was a thick barricade between it and the water, but April could see it wouldn't hold at the speed the truck was going.

The bike came to a stop as the road ahead became too congested for Casey to make any headway. It wasn't going to matter, April saw. The truck would hit the barricade some distance before it reached them. They were going to be alright.

She could hear Casey's frantic cursing as he tried to find a way through the gridlock, but the sight of the driver opening the cab door and hurling himself out as the truck headed for the side distracted her. The truck hit and the barricade gave way in a scream of tortured metal. For a moment it hung, suspended over the water, the sharp spokes from the suspension bridge holding it – and then the weight proved too much and the metal bent. The chains that held the wood onto the cab of the truck snapped, sending logs plummeting into the river below. One end of the chain was propelled into the air by the force of the snap, miraculously not landing on anyone or a car, instead hitting the concrete mere feet in front of the bike.

And then the truck fell, seeming to April's eyes like one of the old cartoons where the coyote would just drop out of sight. Usually after raising a little sign saying 'help'.

Casey turned to look at her and she grinned at him, giving the universal thumbs up sign. It had been close, but they were alive and it seemed as if no one had been killed, which was a blessing in itself…

The chain that was still attached to the truck whipped up, bouncing from the road and hitting the first thing that got in its path.

April.

The end of the chain snagged the wrist of the hand she was giving the thumbs up with, yanking her clean off the bike and pulling her toward the edge. She was momentarily stunned, then tried to get her grip on the concrete, hearing Casey scream her name.

And then she was over the edge and plummeting toward the river..

There were long seconds of freefall, the rushing wind curiously muted by her helmet. She had time to wonder if hitting the water would hurt, how the hell she was supposed to keep herself afloat in the river long enough to swim to the edge or the nearest rescue boat.

She had been right about one thing. Hitting the water hurt almost as much as hitting concrete. For a moment, the chain snagged painfully tight around her wrist and she managed to force the loose end around her wrist and free herself from the truck that was sinking almost lazily to the bottom.

It had all happened so fast that it took April a couple of seconds to realise two curious facts. Her eyes were open and she could see that she was underwater, probably quite deep judging by the height she had fallen from, but she could still breathe. The second was that she could feel water on her lips. And it seemed to be rising.

_Crap, the helmet!_

She thrashed in the water, trying to rise to the surface, at the same time clawing at the straps to release the heavy weight that was supposed to protect her. No good. She still wore the thick gloves on her hands, making her fingers unable to manipulate the strap. And the helmet was pulling her down, slowly filling up with water.

She made one last ditch attempt to get the helmet off, willing to dislocate her jaw, lose her teeth, anything…

No good. The water seeped into her helmet, covering her nose, stealing the last of the air within the confines of the helmet.

The last thing she saw was the water going dark.

_&&&&&&&&&&&_

The alarm went off at gone three in the morning.

Usually, at least one of them was still up. Much of their business led them to be out late and as a result, early morning for them meant nine or ten, Splinter as naturally nocturnal thinking this discipline perfectly adequate. But all of them had been quiet and contemplative after Angel's death and Mikey's insistence that they all remain in the lair. It had seemed like a good night to retire early.

Before going to bed, Don had set the alarms outside the lair, as he always did if none of his brothers were out without him. Just an added safety precaution. Usually they could come and go freely, knowing where in the sewers the alarms were and that they were never set during the day. But at night, when none of them should be roaming, the sound of the sirens was a bad thing.

Splinter was the first out of his room, Leonardo a split-second later, both on guard, ready for whoever entered. Mikey was next, unusually for the turtle, but his sleep had been thin and disturbed anyway. He was followed by Raph and finally Donnie himself. All five were prepared for an attack.

And then the door to the lair opened and Casey walked in.

Raph relaxed, giving out a snort. "Jeez Case, give us a freakin' heart attack why doncha? What the hell ya doin' here at this time anyway? In case ya missed it, it's kinda late."

Casey ignored him completely, stalking up to Michelangelo instead and staring at him. Mike's reflexive grin wilted in the face of that scrutiny. It was so – intense. Almost as if Casey was looking for a particular reaction. And something else. Fury, rage – hate?

"Case?"

_He looks ready to hit me_ thought Mike nervously. _But this is Casey. If something's happened, he'll take it out on the furniture. No matter what he looks like, he'd never try to hit me..._

**BAM!!**

Mike had convinced himself so well that Casey wouldn't hit him that when the man swung his fist, he was taken totally unawares. The fist connected with his beak, knocking him backward. And Casey hadn't been holding back. Mike hit the floor on his shell and grabbed for his beak, wondering if Donnie knew how to set the damn thing, half-convinced it was broken.

Case took a step forward, fist still raised – and then Raph had one of his arms, Leo the other, while Donnie knelt next to Mike and checked out his injuries.

"Casey!" yelled Raph, struggling to hold Casey. "What the hell's got into you?"

"Knock it off Casey," warned Leo, trying to drag Casey back.

Still Casey didn't seem to register them, his eyes on Mikey. Mike met his eyes, nursing his injured face, his heart dropping. Something had gone wrong. Just as he had said to his brothers earlier. And Casey knew it was all Mike's fault.

"You didn't see that coming did ya?" Casey sounded like he might be trying to laugh, but was choking on the words. "Saw the balloon but ya never saw _that_!"

"_Mister Jones!"_

Splinter stepped forward between Mikey and Casey, glaring at the human. "I do not know what is happening, but you will _not_ attack my son again! Is this clear?"

The words seemed to get through to Casey in a way that Leo and Raph had been unable to do. The man turned his gaze slowly on the old rat.

"_He's_ the psychic!" snarled Casey in a low voice. "He knew all about the balloon – _why _didn't he know about _this? Why?_"

"Mister Jones…" Splinter stared at Casey, not letting his gaze drop. "Where is Miss O'Neil?"

At the mention of April's name, Casey seemed to sag, letting Leo and Raph finally pull him away. Neither of them let him go as they took him over to the couch, pushing him into a seated position before they let him go, still on their guards.

"You okay Mikey?" asked Raph, not taking his eyes off Casey.

"I'll be fine," said Mikey in a subdued tone, getting to his feet.

"How is he?" Leo directed the question at Donnie.

"I think he'll be alright. There's gonna be a bruise." Donnie stormed over to Casey and glared at their friend. "What the hell were you thinking Casey? What's going on?"

"April's dead."

The turtles blinked at the words, unable to process the words. Raph was the first to break the silence. "Say what?"

"_April's dead!"_ Casey looked around wildly, his gaze settling on Mike, standing aside from the others. "And _Mike_ should have known what would happen! He knew before! _Why didn't he know about this?!"_

There were five seconds of silence, during which Casey slumped back in the couch and covered his eyes. Then Donnie let out an anguished wail and fled.

"Donnie!" Leo took two steps after his brother, looked back at the seat where Casey still didn't move, to Raph who seemed frozen, to Mikey who hadn't moved at all – and he wondered what the hell was happening to them.

"Wait," said Splinter, the look of shock evident on his features although his voice seemed as steady as ever. "Leonardo, go after Donatello. Raphael, take Michelangelo to his room. Mr Jones, please calm yourself."

Stunned, Raph walked over to Mike, grabbed him by the upper arm and yanked him along in his wake, leading them not to Mike's room but to Raph's.

"Why we in here Raph?" asked Mike faintly.

"Because in here, I can break stuff without wrecking anything of yours." Raph closed his eyes and clenched his fists, raising his head a moment later and hitting out at the nearest thing – a mirror. It shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Raph!"

Raphael went ballistic, unaware that tears were leaking down his cheeks, sweeping things off shelves, throwing things against the walls, lashing out at anything that got in his path. He was in the red, the grip of total rage and pain and fury, and there was nothing he could do until all that destructive anger had taken its course save but to be somewhere he couldn't hurt anyone else.

"_Raphael!"_

Dimly, he was aware of someone grabbing his arm. He spun around, fist raised – and registered Mikey soon enough for the punch to be averted, instead bringing the fist down and hitting his own leg hard enough for it to go instantly numb.

"We don't know for sure that anything happened!" Mikey was rambling, perhaps afraid of being caught in the midst of Raph's anger – but even in his anger, Raph knew enough to believe differently. "We need to – well, we need to speak to Casey. He was acting pretty weird. Maybe…"

Raph took a deep breath, trying to regain his centre. He had worked long and hard to get his anger under control and for the most part, he had been successful – but right now, it was a fight.

And then he recalled his little brother's reaction to him going out on his bike earlier, the panic, the fear. He looked at Mikey through narrowed eyes. "Mike – what did you see before, when you asked me not to go out? What did you _see_?"

Mikey recoiled. "Nothing! I had a bad feeling, I didn't know anything – we _still_ don't know anything! Casey might be…"

Mike trailed off and Raph sneered. "What, mistaken?"

"We should find out what happened." Mikey spoke as if he was hanging on to sanity by the merest thread and Raph, furious and angry and as in pain as he was, hated to see him like that. Mike was the one of his brothers he felt closest to, the kid he felt driven to protect. Something bad was going down, he was going to deal with it.

_But if April really is dead..._

One way or the other, they had to know what was happening.

"C'mon," he said gruffly to Mike, walking out of the room, dealing with his damp eyes with the tails of his bandana. Deep inside, he knew Casey had spoken the truth – but it seemed so unreal. April was one of them, the only one of them who lived a half-way normal life. She was supposed to outlive them all.

In the main area of the lair, Splinter seemed to have got Casey under some kind of control. The human glanced up as they arrived, but made no sign that he would attack again, merely rubbing at his already red-rimmed eyes. And now that Raph thought about it, Casey looked like hell.

A couple of moments later, a noise from Donnie's room drew their attention. Donnie emerged, Leo with him. Leo had his arm around his younger brother's shoulders and Donnie looked to be shell-shocked.

_Bad pun Raph,_ he thought sourly.

Splinter regarded them all worriedly. "I believe Mr Jones is ready to tell us why he is here."

Casey glanced up at them, not seeming to care about the tears that spilled down his cheeks. "Guys, I'm sorry. Mikey – I didn't mean it. I shouldn't have – I'm sorry."

"April," said Donnie, before Mike could reply. "What did you say about April?"

Casey lowered his gaze. "There was a big accident on the bridge – we were coming home from Angel's. We thought we were out of it, but then April got dragged into the river by a truck…"

"Have they…" Leo swallowed, unable to believe he was about to say it. "Have they – recovered a body? Do they know for sure she's…dead?"

"Leo, I was there." Casey turned his view to Leo, anger in his eyes. "She went under. She never came up again. We were there for hours. They're trying again when it gets lighter…"

"But – there's still a chance?" Donnie's voice was filled with the hopefulness of self-delusion and Mike closed his eyes. He might be the most optimistic of all of them, but he had no illusions about the chances of April's survival.

He had known something bad would happen.

_&&&&&&&_

Raphael went back with Casey, taking him back to his own apartment instead of to the one above Second Time Around. Too full of memories of April.

Leo and Splinter both retired, although Mike doubted they were sleeping. Meditation seemed most likely. And Don had gone to his room too, although the lights in there still burned. Normally, Mike would have gone in, turned off the light, expecting his brother to have fallen asleep over a book or something. But tonight, he suspected Donnie wanted to be alone.

_April._

Mike thought back to some of the times they had shared. His first crush, that emotion giving way to a love more suited to siblings. The way she had helped him find his Turtle Titan outfit. The times she had let them stay at her apartment. The way she had put her own life in danger to help them. The way she had always just – been there for him, for all of them, as a friend.

All that, gone.

And a part of Mikey hated himself. He had known that something bad was happening, but not the specifics. He should have guessed somehow that this would happen.

_It's as if we're being punished for just surviving..._

And then Mikey sat bolt upright, the remote control falling from his hand. He jumped up and snagged some paper from beside Donnie's work station, thinking back to his premonition. He had been trying to shove it out of his mind, but if what he suspected was correct…

His finished list read something like this:

Angel.

April.

Purple Dragon.

Foot Ninjas.

Hun and Casey.

Leo.

Karai.

Raph.

Don.

Me.

Mike leant back in his seat and tapped his teeth with the pen. Of course, he had seen other people in his vision, but those were the only ones that he knew – and there was no reason to believe that Hun, Karai, the Foot or the Dragons had escaped.

Except that no one had mentioned Karai's death on the news and the three other businessmen who had been sat near her and killed had been mentioned by name.

Chewing on the biro, trying hard to keep his thoughts away from April, a thought occurred to Mike. If someone had escaped the stadium disaster only to be killed soon after, it would be in the news. Angel had been unnamed simply because they had yet to locate her parents. There was something niggling the back of his mind, some instinct that told him he was thinking in the right way…

Going over to Donnie's computer, he fired it up and logged onto the internet, finding a news site that was local to New York and checking out some of the stories.

The balloon crash still dominated and for the first time, there was something else – a survivor telling the reporter about a 'short guy' freaking out just moments before and screaming about a crash. Mike felt a trickle of unease. If anyone suspected that the 'short guy' was in fact a mutant turtle, they could all be screwed.

Although not as screwed as if they'd been killed.

He saw a link right at the bottom of the page to a related story and clicked on it. The photograph that accompanied it was familiar, too familiar. The girl that Raph had been ogling in his vision, probably would have done in reality had he not pulled them out of the stadium before she was put on the big screen.

She was dead. And not in the crash either.

He read through the link, gaining little more than a basic outline. She was called Chardonnay Jameson and had died when her weight bench fell on her neck and suffocated her. The site opined that it happening so shortly after she had miraculously survived the stadium disaster was tragic.

Mike thought it was more.

He hadn't seen her die – but he knew where she was sitting, close to where the balloon had first hit. Entirely possible that the falling debris may have struck and killed her had she stayed.

He put her name on the list and glanced through the other stories. Nothing suspicious. But three deaths were enough to send his own instincts into overdrive. One, sure. But three?

Hard as it was to believe, those who had escaped the stadium were dying. One by one this time, in seemingly unavoidable accidents. And, if he were to believe what he had seen in his vision, in the order they would have died had they not left the stadium.

But – that was _crazy_. Death was a natural process, like – well, like farting or something. Death was _not_ a skeleton with a scythe that got pissed when you cheated him.

And yet, they were dying.

"What are you doing?"

Mike turned as he heard the voice behind him. Donatello, out of his room, looking weepy.

"Just checking something on the net bro. Hope you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?"

"It's your computer."

"I don't mind Mikey. I told you before."

Don walked over to the computer and grabbed the spare chair nearby, pulling it closer and sitting down. Mike looked over at his brother and looked back at the computer quickly. Don still looked devastated.

Silence reigned for a few minutes and then Don sighed. "I just can't believe it."

"Me either." Mike stared at the screen, concentrating more on his reflection on the monitor than the words.

"I always thought…" Donnie stopped, cleared his throat. "I always thought – when I did think about it – that we'd be the ones to go first. That we'd go out on some attempt to save the world and April would keep going, she'd survive – she'd get over knowing us. She'd get older, get married, have some kids and we'd be the guys she knew when she was young, that we taught her something – but she could always go back to the human world. And now…"

"Donnie..." Mike gave in, turning to his brother and giving him a brief but fierce hug. "April did what she wanted. She loved us, we loved her. We _still_ love her. I thought along those lines too, but – dying isn't something you control, unless it's suicide. There's no way we could have known…"

Mike trailed off and Donnie regarded him through red eyes. "Mike? What are you hiding?"

Mikey sighed, deciding that this might not be the best time to run his idea past one of his brothers. Not when it seemed crazy, even to himself.

"Nothing. I'm not hiding anything. I'm just – I'm not really up to dealing with this after everything."

"Who is?" Don leaned past Mikey and started clicking the mouse, taking no notice of the news story Mike had been looking at. "I was gonna work on some blueprints, try to take my mind off things. If you've finished with the computer…?"

"Sure." Mike stood and let Don take the computer seat. For a moment he hesitated. Donnie seemed so bleak and he wanted to say something. If he could tell him that there was a plan, that he had worked out some kind of pattern, then maybe – shit, who was he kidding? Even _he _had suspected he had gone nuts.

Saddened, Mike headed to his room. There had to be something else he could do. There _had_ to be.

When he got into his room, he inadvertently bumped into his table, only one thing falling from it - his badge, which he had found one night in the junkyard purely by chance and kept ever since. It looked like a bottle cap, but had flashing lights in it. Shaped just like a Budweiser cap.

"Bud –_why_ – ser," he said in a croak, imitating an old advert, before throwing the badge onto a nearby shelf and crawling into bed.

_&&&&&&&&&&_

"What kinda beer would ya like?" asked the barmaid with a big smile. She'd been working bar long enough to spot the happy drunks, the ones out to have fun and spend their money – hopefully by leaving the woman a large tip with every round, instead of lewd suggestion. "We got Coors, Carling, Bud…"

"Uck, not Bud," replied one of the men with a grimace. "Two Carling, darling!"

The barmaid managed to avoid rolling her eyes at the joke she heard at least five times every shift and grabbed the pair their beers, quoting the price and managing a genuine smile as she was urged to keep the change from the note she was handed.

Tim leaned against the bar and tilted his drink, clinking it off his brother's bottle and drinking deep. As a rule, they didn't drink – Foot Ninja, particularly those in Karai's personal employ, didn't want anything dulling their senses. But she had given them some time to unwind after the scene at the Stadium and after the carnage they had almost been a part of, it seemed appropriate to celebrate.

"Hell of a thing, huh?" Bob indicated to a discarded newspaper at the end of the bar, the Stadium disaster the main story. "If that little green freak hadn't flipped out, we might have been underneath all that."

"Don't remind me," said Tim. "Fights, training, all the stuff we usually do, I can imagine going out that way. But with a bunch of citizens in some accident? And Mistress Karai was there too. If she hadn't decided to follow the turtle out of the Stadium…"

Bob nodded solemnly. "Another thing to owe the Foot for."

They were quiet for a moment, contemplating their beers, then Bob glanced at his near-empty bottle. "Another?"

"Sure," replied Tim amicably. "Better make this the last one though. Mistress Karai gave us some time off, but I don't think she'd be pleased it we went back to Foot HQ wasted."

"True." Bob caught the barmaid's eye and gave her a big grin, indicating for two more drinks. "Hey, she's really into me."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Right, and what are you gonna tell her when she asks what your job is? Jeez, I can't take you anywhere!"

"So what would you suggest?" Bob smirked as he handed the barmaid some cash and winked at her. "Stay at the tower all day and spend our spare time…"

"Don't say it Bob."

"…Knitting?"

Tim gave a rueful smile, used to the teasing by now. "Hey, it's a useful ability. And do you know how many ways I can kill a man with a knitting needle?" He looked up at the ceiling, doing some calculations. "Twenty-three. Without resorting to the old stabbing them through the eyes trick."

Bob waved away the barmaid who had brought him his change, indicating at her to keep it. He was about to answer, when a new voice intruded.

"Knittin'?"

The pair turned and looked at the guy in front of them. Holding a bottle of Budweiser that obviously wasn't his first, he squinted at them through a haze of beer. A big-built man, obviously thought of himself as a tough guy.

"That's cute son," he said, breathing stale beer into Tim's face. "That's real cute."

"I know," replied Tim pleasantly, totally unfazed. He was a Foot ninja and he had fought turtles, ninjas, men armed with guns, aliens and monsters without blinking. One drunk didn't give him much cause for concern.

The drunk smirked and for a moment, it looked like he might start something – then he backed off, something in the way the smaller man looked at him cutting through the alcohol-induced machismo and telling him it might not be the wisest move to pick a fight right then.

"Shame," said Tim, looking after him. "I wouldn't have minded a little light exercise."

"We're supposed to be keeping a low profile," replied Bob, finishing his bottle.

"Yeah, Mistress Karai wouldn't like us attracting attention for something so dumb." Tim finished his own beer and stifled a belch. "I gotta piss like a racehorse."

"Me too," said Bob, spying the sign for the bathroom. "It's true what they say; you don't buy beer, you just borrow it."

"I'm so glad I didn't have a draught now." Tim headed for the bathroom, Bob right behind him. "Y'know, it looks pretty weird us going to the bathroom together."

"I gotta piss," grumbled Bob, waiting for Tim to push open the door and then wrinkling his nose. "Although I'm not sure I need to go this badly."

"I damn well do." Tim wandered in, somewhat reluctantly. The bar outside was never going to be called sophisticated, but was at least clean. The bathroom looked like it hadn't been renovated in twenty years, or cleaned in twenty days. The fluorescent light flickered and hummed, the door to the one cubicle that could still boast that much privacy was covered in badly spelled and anatomically incorrect graffiti and the floor had maybe an inch of water that had spilled from a broken pipe. Not exactly a pleasant room, but it contained what they need and wasn't filthy, just uncared for.

They assumed the positions – a urinal separating the ones they used, legs slightly akimbo, eyes on the ceiling throughout. The little talk was light and inconsequential. It took all of about one minute.

And then the door slammed open and the drunk from earlier entered.

Both men had been wondering if they should expect something like this – once the threat in front of them was removed and they'd taken some teasing about the confrontation by some equally drunk buddies, the urge to act could return stronger than ever. Tim and Bob weren't bar hoppers by nature, but they knew a few things about human nature. It wasn't a problem. The Foot were never caught with their pants down.

_Well, at least metaphorically,_ thought Tim as the two zipped up.

The drunk grinned at them, letting the door swing shut behind him. "Whazzup?"

Tim sighed and Bob just shook his head. The guy was faking friendliness, but was tensed to do something stupid. It was written in every muscle in his body. The ninja on the other hand were casual, almost disinterested. Nor did they make any move toward the man blocking the door.

The group remained that way for almost fifteen seconds before the drunk got bored and made his move, raising his now-empty bottle and heading at Bob with a yell.

Seemingly without any effort at all, Bob casually twisted aside and let the drunks own momentum carry him forward. Almost as an afterthought, he raised his leg and used a graceful kick to propel the man even further forward. Maybe landing in the puddle of pissy water would teach him a lesson.

The drunk fought to keep his feet on the slippery floor, succeeding against all odds and crashing into the wall, keeping his balance by catching the hand dryer and leaning on it heavily. Bob and Tim regarded him for a moment and then headed toward the door, maybe only twenty steps away.

"…get you for that…"

Tim rolled his eyes. "He doesn't give up, does he?"

"Tenacious," agreed Bob, looking over his shoulder as the man tried to push himself away from the wall again. This time, his feet really did give out from under him and again he grabbed at the hand dryer to keep him from falling in the puddle.

Without warning, the hand dryer came away from the wall.

Stringent health and safety warnings surround these devices, meaning that there's no way they should be moveable, no matter how hard the Saturday night binge drinking crew try. And should the unthinkable happen, the electronics that powered the air and monitored the motion to set them off are not supposed to be exposed by this act. In any case, a failsafe device cuts all power to the unit the moment it maintains any damage.

A shame then that the cowboy the landlord hired to save money on the job hadn't realised the consequences of cutting these corners to make the work cheaper.

Drunk and dryer fell to the floor, the dangling wires catching the drunk's fallen form, electricity travelling through his body and from there, to the water on the bathroom floor. Within a second, the entire floor was electrified – faster than even a ninja could move.

Within the bar, the barmaid stared fearfully at the door to the men's room, the one she had been about to go through hoping to avert a fight, as the lights went out, electrical fittings blew and customers leapt to their feet, exclaiming and shouting their panic and confusion. All she could hear was the buzzing of electricity around her – and within, two soft thuds, accompanied by a scent of burning meat.


	5. Chapter 5

Holly-Ann Hart turned on the television as she dressed, saw the redhead chick on the news and decided enough was enough. She had to get out of this crazy country, before it succeeded in killing her.

She'd been in New York City only three months, moving there to be with her fiancé Tommy, who had lived there his whole life save for a short period in the UK during which time the two had met. Given the choice between living in small-town Britain or the adventure of the big city in another country, she had jumped at the chance of the adventure and now she was beginning to regret it.

It all started at the baseball game. She hated baseball and couldn't see the point of it, but Tommy loved it and had scored tickets to the big charity game. She had been in a foul mood even before the game after a bad day at work, all she wanted to do was stay home maybe relax in a bath with a glass of wine. Instead, she had to go and stand bored witless for three hours watching some inane sport she didn't understand at all. Saturday afternoon in the terraces it wasn't.

Tommy had picked up on her bad mood and been angered by it. They sniped at each other all the way to the stadium, getting really bitchy as they waited for it to start. In the end, she had been about to start yelling when someone had beat her to it, a man she couldn't see well yelling about the balloon. That had been enough for her and all the distraction she needed to storm out of the stadium, Tommy following a few moments behind her, still berating her.

She had turned on her heel once outside the stadium, furious still but with a trickle of unease. Something about the shouting man had really unnerved her. There was a fair share of crazies in England too but this one had got to her in a way others hadn't. Maybe it was because she was looking for an excuse to leave.

She had opened her mouth to scream abuse at Tommy, let him know just what an inconsiderate pig he was for dragging her out when she was tired to do something she hated and then yelling at her about it – and then the words had dried in her throat as she saw the realised the balloon was falling into the stands.

Her life since then had seemed surreal and weird.

Tommy seemed to take it all in his stride, calling their escape miraculous and seeming to forget the reasons they had left, although he was suddenly far more attentive of her needs, taking the attitude that he had been given a second chance of life and he was going to get everything out of it that he could. But she was freaked out by the whole incident. The man had been screaming about the balloon and he had been right.

And then Holly-Ann had started seeing things on the news that brought it all back.

First thing; a girl who had been in a falling accident, unnamed. Not a big deal, save for it had been local – until someone mentioned the rumour that she had survived the stadium disaster.

Then the chick with the knockers. Holly-Ann recognised her, or thought she did, from the big screen just before she had stormed off. And reports had said she had been a survivor and scheduled to speak of her experiences.

A fall and a freak accident. Tommy had laughed it off, pointing out that in the first case, it was nothing but rumour and in the second, there was nothing even remotely linked to the crash that could have caused her death.

But now…

The redhead looked back at her from the television. With the other girl she hadn't been sure, but she was sure she had seen this girl as they queued to enter, her arm around a tall man, both of them laughing it up. She'd noticed because she'd been in such a foul mood with her own boyfriend at the time and been sourly irritated with them for being happy.

And now the girl was dead, dragged from the back of a motorbike and the sole fatality in what could have been a catastrophic pile-up.

No mention of the stadium. But Holly-Ann _knew_.

_Bollocks to this_, she thought wildly, hitting the off button on the remote and then throwing the device at the TV, running into the bedroom where Tommy was still dressing and grabbing her suitcase from the top of the wardrobe. Tommy regarded her startled as she pulled open the drawers and began stuffing clothes into the case with no care or attention to folding them neatly away.

"Honey, what in the heck are you doing?"

"I'm leaving," she replied, dragging a hand through her hair and wishing she hadn't quit smoking. "I'm getting out of this country before it kills me."

"Huh?"

"There was another one on the news. Another one. Someone else who was at the stadium that night just died!"

"Did they say that on the news?"

"They didn't have to, I saw her when we were there!"

Tommy blinked at her as she tore through the room like a hurricane, shoving as much as she could into the large case. He had imagined that English girls were steadier than their American counterparts, but now he realised that no matter what their nationality, women were all nuts.

"Holly-Ann… it's just a coincidence." 

"Coincidence my arse!" snapped Holly-Ann, digging her passport out of the drawer along with her credit card and stash of emergency money. "The hell with the rest of it. I just need away from here _now_. If you're smart, you'll come with me."

"Are you crazy? I can't just take time off work because you have a hunch!"

"It's not a hunch! We're all dying, one by one! Somebody's trying to off everyone who lived through the stadium and make it look like accidents!"

"Holly-Ann, honey..."

"_Don't call me honey!_ I _hate_ it!"

"Fine then!" Tommy lost his temper with her. "You want to run away and leave me over some _coincidence_?"

"I don't want to leave you – but I'm not gonna die for you either." Holly-Ann slammed the suitcase closed and picked it up, carrying it into the living room with Tommy trailing after her.

"Where will you go?"

"Home."

"Where will you stay?"

"With Donna-Lou or Nikki-Jo."

Tommy laughed derisively. "Your sisters? You three get on like cats in a sack." Usually he found the weirdly un-English names of the Hart family amusing, but right then it barely registered.

Holly-Ann grabbed her jacket. "It doesn't matter. Better fighting there than dying here."

She grabbed her handbag, shoved her money, cards and passport into it and snatching her suitcase again, left the apartment.

Seriously concerned now, Tommy stared after her for a few moments then decided to follow. He missed the elevator by mere seconds as Holly-Ann went down, presumably to hail a cab and get to the airport. In an agony of indecision, Tommy checked his watch and took off down the stairs, catching Holly-Ann just as she walked out of the building.

"You're being ridiculous!" he said loudly.

Holly-Ann stormed off down the pavement, suitcase held so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "Whatever. I'm getting away from here."

Tommy sighed noisily, still keeping pace with her. "Babe – why don't we call it a holiday? Give it a while and when you feel safer, when you calm down, you can come home again?"

Holly-Ann slowed her pace down. "I – I guess that could work. But I won't come back here until whoever's killing the survivors is caught."

Biting his tongue, Tommy nodded instead of telling her she was being paranoid and stupid. "Okay babe, anything to make you feel safe."

Holly-Ann felt a rush of love for her fiancé. He could be hideously insensitive and blind, but he really did care about her. She turned to face him, taking in his face since it might be a while before she saw it again. Like some kind of sign, a horse-drawn carriage appeared on the street in the distance, adorned in bridal ribbons and drawn by two white horses.

"I – I'm sorry Tommy," she said quietly. "I'm just scared by all this."

"It's alright honey," he replied and for once, she didn't feel like strangling him for the endearment.

"The hell with it," she said smiling, throwing the suitcase aside. "I'm staying…"

"Whoa!"

The suitcase had flown onto the kerb, into the path of a cyclist. He swerved, directly into the path of a cab, which also swerved, cutting dangerously close to the horse-drawn carriage, the driver laying on the horn furiously.

One of the horses reared, but was trapped by the harness, succeeding only in kicking the other horse. Both fought the control of the reins and then bolted, knocking the carriage driver from his perch as the carriage swung alarmingly, staying upright through what appeared to be a miracle, loud screams coming from the bride within.

The carriage bore directly down on Tommy and Holly-Ann.

Tommy grabbed Holly-Ann by the arms and shoved her away, hard. Before she could even lose her feet, the horses thundered among the pedestrians, people diving away left and right. Tommy was knocked to the ground, trampled beneath their hooves – and then they were off him. The carriage chose that moment to topple to its side, snagging his jacket on one of the gilded handles and dragging him along the road face-first.

Holly-Ann landed on the floor and started screaming as the horses missed her – but she was treated to the sight of her fiancé being pulled beneath the carriage, leaving a trail of gore and skin as it careened away.

Behind her, a man walking his Pit Bull Terrier released its lead and leapt away from the carriage. The dog tried to run, but was dealt several glancing blows by the horses, a vicious blow by a hoof snapping clean through the fastening on its muzzle, another stamping on its leash and almost strangling it. In the noise and confusion and pain, the dog panicked, howling and shaking loose of its muzzle.

_Fight or flight._ The instinct of all animals in peril. It chose flight, escaping from the madness of the horses and carriage and running down the pavement away from the destruction. It didn't get far. There was something in his way, something that in its terror it didn't recognise as a person, lying in its path and making as much noise as the horses had.

Panicked, the Pit Bull went straight for Holly-Ann's throat.

&&&&&&&&&&

Michelangelo sat on the roof of a tall apartment building, staring out over the charred ruins of the stadium. The list, the order in which he had seen the people in his vision die, was only a day old but the paper was soft and worn through much handling, repeatedly opened, checked, folded again. It looked like he'd had it for months.

Once again he opened it, noting it was beginning to tear along the folds. He had considered crossing out those on it that he knew were already dead, but in the end, he didn't have the heart to do it. It seemed too final. Instead he glanced down at the four people he knew were on the list, the ones he was unsure about.

The two Foot Ninja who had been Karai's bodyguards. Then Hun and Casey, seemingly at the same time.

There had been nothing to suggest that either of the ninja had escaped from the initial blaze, or Karai or Hun for that matter. But he had noticed no noticeable upheaval within the Dragons ranks, which would be normal if Hun had been terminally interrupted and there had been no mention of Karai's death in the reports. Although they hadn't claimed her alive either, or if they had he hadn't seen.

This meant he had to assume the next person in the line of danger was Casey Jones.

His three brothers had gone over to Casey's house to share in his sorrow, but Mike had begged off claiming that he was the last person that Casey needed to see at that point. None of them could convincingly argue this wasn't the case and perhaps sensing that Mike wanted to be alone for once, didn't push the issue.

He hoped he was wrong about the pattern of the deaths. Because if Casey died, Leonardo was next.

He planned to go and keep a watch on Casey's apartment from the outside, just to make sure. He didn't know if he could do anything, but there was no way in hell he wasn't going to try. He just wanted a few minutes alone to clear his head, try to make some sense out of the whole mess – and try to think of some way to convince his brothers of the pattern he saw emerging….

"Michelangelo."

Mike whirled around, his hands dropping to his nunchaku and cursing himself inwardly. He might have been distracted, but he was still a ninja and should have sensed something.

"Be at ease. I come alone." Karai emerged from the shadows of the roof and stood facing him, her palms facing him to show that her hands were empty of weapons.

"Since when do you travel alone?" asked Mikey, unconvinced.

"I have no reason to fight you," she replied. "You saved my life. I was at the baseball game when this – accident occurred."

"Yeah, that's old news, we saw you. What about revenge for Daddy Dearest?"

Karai narrowed her eyes but her voice remained impassive. "His honour can be redeemed at a later date. For now, there are more pressing issues to be addressed."

"Like?"

"The Foot Ninja whom accompanied me to the game are dead."

The news hit Mikey like a hammer blow. _"What?"_

"Killed in a freak accident. Electrocuted. And I have noticed that there have been a number of people who have survived the accident only to perish shortly afterwards in similarly odd events. Your acquaintance for one."

"Two of them," muttered Mikey, numb with shock. If Karai was telling the truth, then Casey could be next. Casey or Hun and he had no way of knowing if Hun was even still alive…

Karai regarded him curiously. "You have noticed this then?"

"There's a pattern," explained Mikey, handing her his paper without much care. If she was going to kill him, let her. If he was doomed anyway, why bother?

_Because if you don't fight for life, don't hang on to it, then you're giving up. You're accepting that you can't change things – but we turtles have changed things, gone against impossible odds and come out on top before!_

Karai read through the list and looked back up at Mike. "Tell me everything. How did you know what would happen?"

Mike sighed and told her everything – the vision, the order of events, the point where he realised every little thing after his vision mirrored what he had seen in it. Karai raised an eyebrow as he told her of her own fiery demise but remained silent until the end of the story.

"…So I don't know if Casey or Hun are next," Mike finished off. "It happened so fast and I lost sight of them both at the same time." As he spoke he wondered why he was even telling her all this, but he figured it couldn't get much worse – and maybe she would even help. After all, her neck was on the line too.

Karai reached into the shadows and Mike tensed, wondering if he had been set up for attack – but then Karai picked up a small briefcase and slid it across the roof at him.

"I had my researchers check on the death toll of survivors of catastrophes. Those who would have been involved but for some unforeseeable event."

Mike opened the briefcase and wrinkled his nose at the piles of graphs. Donnie would be able to work it out, but to him it didn't make much sense, especially not on a darkened rooftop while keeping a close watch on an old enemy.

"As far as I can see, it doesn't make much difference," he said finally. "These people delayed on their way to the airport or stuck in traffic or whatever, they go on to live happily ever after."

"To live anyway," added Karai gravely. "But I was considering your outburst and half-expected a tale such as that you told me. There are newspaper reports in there too."

"Mike pulled them out and blinked as he scanned through some of the headlines.

_Seven survive 180 disaster – teen claims 'vision'._

_Stalled car saves lives on Route 23 pile-up._

_Tragedy at Club Kitty – Singer held for questioning._

_Metroline bombing – Suspect released._

_Devils Flight Disaster – Nervous teens cheat death._

_Horror elevator smash: Suspect claims 'psychic vision'._

_Boat explosion kills…_

"Um, I don't see what this has to do with anything," said Mike, looking up from the clippings.

Karai rolled her eyes. "You were screaming about an accident, meaning you and several other people left before they could be killed. All these other incidents reported in the newspapers have two things in common; before each one person claimed that the accident would happen before it did and caused enough of a commotion to save several other people – and that shortly after, those who were saved began dying in freak accidents.

Mike narrowed his eyes. "You're shitting me. This is some kind of elaborate plot to get at us. How do I know that your ninja were killed? Maybe _you_ killed everyone else so that we'd _believe _we were cursed!"

Karai snorted. "You watch too many movies. What benefit would I get from killing a teenage girl in a public place in daylight? How would I orchestrate a pile-up?"

Shrugging, Mike turned back to the clippings. "I think I remember the boat sinking."

"Yes, it was heavily reported, there's a lot less information on some of the other events. But my researchers managed to search through police records and chase up some of the survivors of these events."

Mike looked at her hopefully. "And?"

"Out of all those events, only three of the original survivors still live – after a fashion. One has vanished, there has been no sign in years and the parents are merely waiting the prerequisite amount of time to declare her dead. One is in a hostel for the terminally ill, with the final stages of AIDS. The third had a child some months after the event she initially survived and there are no death reports that we could find."

Mike shook his head slowly. "But – how does this have something to do with us?"

"Have you seen the news today?"

"Nope, I've, uh, been kinda avoiding the news lately."

"There are some prints from today in the pocket."

Frowning, Mike dug out the printouts and recoiled. Karai raised an eyebrow. "You know those people?"

_The guy flattened by the scoreboard… the girl with the metal lodged in her head…_

"They were both in my vision," he said quietly, tucking the printouts away, taking note of the names, Holly-Ann Hart and Tommy Daniels.

"Where were they on the list?"

"After April – before Casey…"

"Then we have to assume that the pattern remains, those survivors are dying in the order they would have done in the stadium." Karai brushed irritably at a strand of hair that had blown across her face. "I suggest we group together all the survivors and see if we can come up with a plan."

Mike waved the clippings in the air. "Do you happen to know if any of these dudes had a plan?"

"Our other alternative is waiting for death," snapped Karai. "You would prefer that? I notice that you are the last on the list. Do you wish to see your brothers killed before you, one by one?"

Glaring at her, Mike took out his shell cell. "I'll call them. But no funny stuff!"

"I'm not known for being a funny person," replied Karai coldly.

_Understatement of the year,_ thought Mikey, flipping open the shell cell and calling Leo. His brother's voice came through the speaker, sounding concerned and forcibly reminding Mikey that the only people standing between his brother and death were Hun and Casey. He'd already seen Leo killed once; he had no desire to witness it again.

"Are you alright Mikey? Has something happened?"

"Not to me." Mike gave Karai a sideways glance. "You won't believe who I'm talking to right now…"


	6. Chapter 6

Kimber Holden climbed the stairs leading to the apartment above her little shop and sighed as she threw her handbag onto the kitchen counter, not even bothering to sit down for five minutes before turning on the gas stove and emptying a tin of beans into the saucepan, putting them on the heat. She owned the lease on both the convenience store downstairs and the small place above it, where she lived and she worked long hours. None so long as this last week though. Since the disaster at the stadium, there had been a steady stream of sightseers fuelled by morbid curiousity. Her shop was very close to the former stadium and she had been gaining a lot of extra business, selling snacks, drinks and cigarettes to those visiting. She had taken to selling bunches of flowers as well and they were selling to those who preferred to think of themselves as sympathetic to the dead.

It also meant she got little time to relax. She had begun opening the shop at six in the morning and hadn't closed until seven that evening. Until recently she had been unable to afford to hire help and ironically, now she could afford it she didn't have the time to look.

That day had been on e of the busiest to date – she hadn't even had chance to grab something to eat. Hence her immediate rush to the stove to eat. She was starving.

She shoved two slices of bread into the toaster and turned it on, just as the phone rang.

Cursing, Kimber left her meal and grabbed for the receiver. "Hello?"

"Miss Holden?"

"Yeah, speaking." Kimber returned to her meal, giving the beans a stir. If it was a telesales person, she was getting rid of them sharpish.

"My name is Doctor King, calling from the hospital. It's about your mother."

Kimber's appetite left her immediately. "Oh God, has something happened?"

"There's no real cause for alarm Miss Holden. She had a fall about three hours ago and was brought in to us. She'll recover, she has a fractured wrist and a dislocated shoulder, but it would be better for her to have a family member around. She's quite shaken up."

"I'm on my way." Kimber hung up the phone and turned off the heat beneath the beans, ignoring the toast as it popped up. She grabbed her coat and was struggling into it as she recalled that her car keys were in her bag and tried to pick it up before her coat was on. There was a complicated moment as she forced her arms through the sleeves and ran for the door, pulled back as her bag caught on smoething in the kitchen. With an almighty yank, whatever it was caught on gave and she rushed from the apartment, too filled with concern to do her usual paranoid checks.

&&&&&&&&&&&

The other three turtles met Michelangelo on the roof where Karai had found him, accompanied by Casey because Mike had insisted he should not be left alone, not when he might be next in line for death. When they arrived, it became clear why the turtles had been reluctant to bring him along. While he wasn't pissing-down-his-leg drunk, he'd obviously been drowning his sorrows. His speech was slower than usual and slightly slurred, his movements overly careful. Then again, his girlfriends corpse had been pulled out of the Hudson earlier that day – the man was entitled to a painkiller.

Karai stood off to one side staring moodily into the distance while Mikey outlined to the others what he had worked out about the pattern of deaths, offering the clippings that Karai had brought to Donatello, who scanned over them silently. Leo merely listened, keeping his eyes focused on Karai and his muscles tensed in case of any sudden moves on her part. Raphael barely managed to keep quiet until the end of the story, bursting out the moment the final words of Mikey's story died away. "Mike, are you _nuts_? You're trying to tell me that we're supposed to be dead and some cosmic fuck-up kept us alive? And now some seven foot skeleton in a black robe's come to finish the job? That's the dumbest thing I ever heard!"

Mike sighed dejectedly and glanced over at Karai. "I knew they wouldn't believe me."

"You've got to admit Mike, it's pretty hard to believe," said Leo gently.

"Harder to believe than me seeing the future in the first place?" Mike countered sharply.

Leo shrugged. "It's easier to believe you had a vision of the future than it is to think that Death is coming to finish off the job. Look, you've been under a lot of pressure lately, with the accident and – and what happened to Angel and April…"

"Wait." Don's voice was oddly without inflection. "When Mike was telling Splinter what happened back at the lair that night, he told us the order then. He _said_ Angel… April, Casey, Hun, Leo, Karai, Raph – then me and Mike last. That's exactly what he said to Sensei."

Raph shot him a look of annoyance. "So? It's just a list of names, it doesn't mean anything!"

"But the first two people Mikey spoke about _did_ die…" Donnie trailed off, then cleared his throat and tried again. "They were both alive when he spoke to Splinter. They'd just left the lair! And unless he can see the future…"

The others looked at him disbelievingly.

"Okay, bad choice of words. What I mean is that Mikek knew the order we died in at the stadium and so far the rest of us are just fine. If the deaths are occurring in the same order that they _would _have done, then maybe there's something we can do to – I don't know, prevent dying. We did it once, maybe we can do it again."

"Guys," growled Raph. "Can the bullshit. In case you forgot, the next person on Mike's little 'list' is sitting right over there."

Casey waved a hand at Raph dismissively. "Don't care. Doesn't matter now. Nothing does. Gotta die sometime."

"Don't talk like that Case!" said Mike, sounding upset.

Leo stared across the rooftops to the burned-out stadium, thinking. "If the order in which we're to die is preordained – and that doesn't mean I buy your theory Mikey – then if we stop the next person from dying then the rest of us are safe."

Mikey shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, nothing's going to happen to Casey while we're around."

"Newsflash Leo!" Mike snatched one of the clippings from Don and thrust it in his face, the one from that day of Holly-Ann and Tommy. "Those two died on the same street at the same time in _two separate_ animal attacks! No one saw it coming, it was a bizarre accident! Just like what happened to April and Angel and the girl on the TV – I saw them all at the stadium and I don't know how I'm supposed to know when things are going to happen…"

"Mike!" Leo batted the clippings out of his face, knocking them to the floor, grabbing Mikey by the shoulders. "Get a grip!You have to calm down," continued Leo maddeningly. "If you're right, then we need to think about this and work something out, not lose our heads!"

Mike looked down from Leo's gaze, turning his head away. Beside him, Don watching him too, a clipping still in his hand. The story on the back pulled Mikey's eye.

_2 Hunted in Arson Case in Manhattan._

Donnie's hand obscured the title partially and Mikey felt the world pull away from him, until the universe was taken up by the part of the title still visible.

_2 Hun_

_Case_

"We have company," Karai's voice cut in.

Donnie shoved the clipping back nto the case as Leo and Raph ran over to Karai to check out what they were seeing. Casey stayed where he was. Mikey stared at the case, wondering if he had seen what he thought he had just seen or if it was a symptom of his worry.

_It didn't tell me who was next, it said both – is it a sign?_

"Hun," said Raph in a low voice that failed to mask his disgust.

"With the Dragons," added Leo.

"Not too many of them though," mused Donnie.

There was a pause, then Leo sighed. "If Mikey's right – just in case – we ought to warn him. He could be next."

"He could stand between your friend and his demise," added Karai thoughtfully. "But do we really wish for Hun to be warned? It could solve many problems for both yourselves and the Foot clan should he be eliminated."

Leo shot her a sideways glance. "There are times when you sound exactly like the Shredder."

"I shall take that as a compliment."

"I wouldn't." Leo leapt from the building silently, followed by Raphael and Donnie.

Casey stirred slightly from his seat. "Hun?"

"You stay there Case," said Mike urgently, heading for the edge of the roof.

"Hun," said Casey again, the malice in his vice obvious in spite of the slight slurring.

Mikey sighed, unable to believe he was about to ask something of the woman he always thought he'd never ask anything of. "Karai? Make sure Casey stays up here. Hun's gonna laugh himself into a hernia as it is without Casey staggering all over the place."

Karai regarded him coolly. "Then why confront him at all?"

"Because even Hun deserves the chance of living." Mikey leap t from the rooftop and landed beside his brothers.

The four turtles faced the Purple Dragons, who raised their weapons and smirked, obviously ready to take on the enemy. One thing about the Dragons; they went from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.

"Nice to see you, _freaks,_" said Hun in his gravelly voice. "Considering you were nearly barbeque on the half-shell a few days ago."

Raph snorted. "And that same day we coulda put an apple in your mouth and you'd be a dead ringer for a banquet."

Hun glared and for the first time, Mikey noticed that he was armed, carrying a grenade launcher as casually as a normal sized man might carry a rifle. Now he lifted it and pointed it in their general direction, obviously not about to fire but to give a general warning. _"Get them!"_

The Dragons rushed in to attack.

The fight was as short as always it was. The Dragons were vicious but didn't have the training or stamina to go against the turtles. Leo took out one swinging a chain at his head, Raph took out two with no visible weapons, Donnie sent another wielding a pipe flying and Mike took out the final Dragon, who had a knife almost as big as he was and no idea how to use it.

"Cool it Hun," said Leo, drawing a katana and raising his other hand in a back-off gesture. "We just want to talk."

Hun sneered. "Talk. About what?"

"About _April!_"

The turtles were taken by surprise by the yell as Casey dived from the building, Karai following with her face a mask of irritation. Casey landed a good blow to Hun's back with a hockey stick, but landed awkwardly and rolled away from Hun. He struggled to his feet and stood in front of a convenience store, extending his arm and giving Hun a 'come and get me' gesture.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on him!" hissed Mike as Karai landed nearby.

"I never thought he'd dive off the roof," Karai growled back. "I believed he would take the fire escape. I was guarding that." 

Hun brought the grenade launcher up in a fluid motion. Leo raced for the man but before he reached him, Hun had fired.

Raph raced at Casey, knocking him down as the grenade whistled past them and through the window of the shop. Rolling off, Raph went to go help Leo with Hun…

Unknown to any of them, earlier in the night Kimber Holden had snagged her handbag on the gas control for the cooker. The oven had been fortunately unlit, but the gas had escaped anyway, filling the building with deadly fumes.

The grenade sparked a fire, which ignited the gas.

The building blew outwards.

The rush of air blew everyone off their feet. Casey and Raph landed in the middle of the street, Hun and Leo were knocked into the side of the building opposite and Mike, Donnie and Karai were thrown into a heap of arms and legs.

"Nice going Hun," muttered Leo, staring at the burning building.

"It's that moron Jones' fault," growled Hun, getting to his feet.

A second later, Raph barrelled into him. "You're going to _die_ if you don't listen to us!"

"And you're going to die anyway!" Hun shook Raph off as easily as a normal man might shake off a bug, backhanding Leo as he too tried to hold Hun down.

"You two are heavy," grumbled Karai, shoving Mike and Donnie off her.

"Oh, sorry," muttered Donnie, getting up quickly. Mikey barely noticed. His attention was taken by Casey, who has also got to his feet.

Hun ran for Casey, with a lumbering gait that should by rights have made it easy for Cassey to avoid. But the man was still dazed from the explosion and didn't even see Hun until the behemoth was almost on top of him. For a few moments they tussled, Hun wearing Casey down with his sheer strength…

There was asecond explosion from the apartment above the shop, where Kimber Holden kept her propane heater. The wall blew outwards, toppling down into the street.

Casey and Hun were both buried beneath the bricks.

"CASEY!" screamed Leo and Raph at the same time, both running over to the fallen debris. There was no sign of either man.

"We're drawing a crowd," said Karai coolly.

"Screw the crowd," muttered Donnie, noting the several people peering out of the windows of buildings nearby. Disregarding them, he raced over to help Leo and Raph.

Mikey remained rooted to the spot, staring in shock at the fallen rubble beneath which Casey and Hun had vanished.

_Both dead, both dead…_

_And Leo's next!_

Looking over at Leo, Mikey let his gaze travel upwards to the ruined apartment. He could see the interior, the furnishings in flames, the walls crumbling and falling. It reminded him too much of the night Second Time Around had gone up in flames – the night they had almost lost Leonardo….

The floor of the apartment listed suddenly sideways, sending furniture flying forward. But the floor didn't break entirely, all that happened was the fixtures slid forward toward the street.

Leonardo didn't know what hit him at first. One moment he was trying to dig Casey out with his bare hands, the next something hit him hard and he was thrown across the street, someone landing on top of him, breathing heavily. As he hit the ground, he registered a loud crash.

Years of ninja training paid off; he was on his feet with a katana at his assailants throat before he realised it was Mikey.

"Mike!" Leo sheathed his katana and gave his little brother an infuriated look. "Why did you do that?"

Mikey shook his head and pointed mutely to where Leo had been standing. Leo turned and went cold. A heavy stereo unit had smashed down right where he had been seconds before. It looked like solid mahogany and had to weigh at least a couple of hundred pounds.

Leo stared for a moment. Raph and Donnie had temporarily ceased in their endevours, eyes like saucers, staring at Leo and Mikey.

"I did it."

Leo turned back to Mikey as he heard the words, still shocked but wondering if his brother had gone temporarily insane. Mike had got to his feet and was doing a victory dance, shaking his turtle tushie to some imagined beat.

"_I did it!_ I beat the Reaper! Fuck you Death! You hear me? _Fuck you!_"

The floor of the apartment finally gave way, sending more furniture plummeting into the shop below. The CD rack slid forward and upended, sending CD boxes and several loose CDs flying into the street. They shot forward with lethal velocity.

Karai shaded her eyes against the glare, not even seeing the discs heading outward. A copy of Kimber's favourite song, 99 Luftballons, caught her in the throat, slicing through her trachea as easily as if it had been a knife. Karai widened her eyes in shock and her hands went up to her throat and she instinctively yanked the disc from her wound. A mistake as it turned out. The wound gushed an alarming amount of blood out, sprayingthe turtles as they rushed to her aid.

Leo caught her as she fell forward, her green eyes clouding over as the life bled from her.

In the distance came the sound of sirens.

"Guys, we have to go," said Donnie firmly.

Mikey gazed at Karai in horror. "But – she wasn't next, Leo was…"

"We can't just leave," added Raph. "Casey's still under there!"

"There's nothing more we can do for him!" said Donnie, frustrated. "He's gone Raph. Hun too."

"And Karai," murmered Leo.

"It wasn't her turn," continued Mikey, oblivious to his brothers. "She wasn't supposed to be until after Leo – what changed?"

"Mike!" Donnie grabbed his brother by the shoulders and shook him. "We can figure it out when we get back – we need to _leave_!"

"Donnie's right," said Leo, closing Karai's eyes and laying her down, straightening up. "We have to go. There's nothing more we can do here."

"Nothing any of us can do," added Mikey bleakly.

Raph shook his head in denial. "Casey could still be alive!"

"And we can't dig him out," replied Leo wearily. "The fire department can. And we were seen. Someone will tell them he's under there."

"But – "

"Raphael!" Leo's voice took on the hard edge he often used to call the others into line. "We have to go _right now_. I'm sorry – but we have to."

Raph took one last look over his shoulder at the burning rubble at the foot of the shop, but followed Leo as he left, grabbing Mike by the wrist and leading him toward the nearest sewer. Mike seemed to have succumbed to shock, hollow-eyed and silent.

"I think this proves that Mikey's theory was more accurate than we wanted to believe," said Donnie as they were trudging through the sewers. The four had been mostly silent until then, lost in their own thoughts.

"I guess it does," said Leo somberly. "But what can we do about it?"

"Whatever we do, I'd like to make it quick," growled Raph with uncharacteristic bitterness. "Since Fearless Leader's been skipped over somehow and Karai's dead, the next person on Mikey's little list is me."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author Note: **My apologies for taking so long to have the final chapter up - but here it is! May I also take a moment to thank all of those who voted for this story and others I wrote in the Fanfic competition. FDRF won second place in Best Crossover and there were placements for some of my one shots and nominations for others. I'm glad they were enjoyed, thanks again and I hope you enjoy this too!

**&!&!&!&!&**

Splinter looked up sharply as the four turtles entered the lair, taking notice of their morose demeanours. "My sons?"

"Something happened," said Donnie, not noticing Splinter speaking to them, too involved in working out the events of the evening. "Somehow, Leo managed to avoid being next on the list. And by avoiding it, he was skipped over. It went right on to the next person, Karai."

"Isn't it obvious?" Leo glanced at the three of them, noting their worried faces. "That unit was supposed to land on _me_. If it had done, I would have been turtle pancake. But because Mikey saw it coming, he managed to step up – and I was taken off the list."

Raph scowled. "So what are you saying? That the rest of us have to wait around until we _nearly_ get killed hoping to get skipped over? I guess all ya have to do then is wait for a ton of bricks to fall on my head, since _I'm_ the next one doing the dying!"

"So _now _you believe me" snapped Mikey, still shaken from seeing his hard won victory over certain death snatched back and replaced with uncertainty again. "You think there's an order to the deaths as soon as it's you next."

Raph threw his arms in the air. "Yeah, okay? I believe you! You convinced me, there's an order to the deaths and mine's next. Happy now? That what ya wanted to hear?"

"Yeah Raph, I'm ecstatic. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Asshole."

"Michelangelo!" Splinter allowed his tone to sharpen. "Enough! Where is Mr Jones?"

Donnie shook his head. "Sensei, Casey was killed, Hun showed up out of nowhere and he was killed too…"

Splinter looked grave. "What is this about an order?"

The other turtles all looked at Mikey, who shrugged, his gaze finding the floor and staying there. "Master Splinter, the vision I had at the baseball game, I saw everyone die in the same order as they've been dying in real life. I don't think it's random – or at least I didn't think that. But tonight… I ran into Karai and she knew the deaths and what happened at the game were linked somehow. We figured it out and got everyone together to tell them, but then Hun showed up and it all went to hell. I – I thought I had it all worked out, but if I did get it right then Leo would be dead already. I mean, why did it skip him instead of just trying again?"

Splinter shook his head slowly. "I do not understand. Leonardo?"

"If Mikey's list is right, then I should have been killed after Casey and Hun," explained Leo wearily. "But after they died, Mikey shoved me out of the way of a stereo unit that would have finished me off for sure. And then Karai – she was killed too. But if Mikey's theory was right, then she should have been safe until I died. So we're confused."

Splinter was silent for a moment, frowning and thinking before he spoke. "My sons, sit for a while."

The four turtles assumed a meditative pose in front of their Sensei, who also sat, resting his chin on one hand and regarding them all. He was quiet long enough to unnerve them all, but they all retained their silence until he chose to speak.

"My sons – you are all so young. I truthfully believed as all parents do, that no matter what befell our family, you four, my sons, were invincible. That youth is a deterrent to death. Now I am forced to think otherwise."

Raph opened his mouth as if to talk back, caught the look on Splinter's face and wisely closed his mouth instead.

"Some people see death as a force of nature and of course, they are right. But this does not preclude sentience I believe. It seems sometimes that even forces of nature are able to choose how they are to treat us, to show mercy or to inflict suffering. Why should death be different? But you were given the chance to cheat death and I know that being outsmarted has never made any sentient being happy."

Raph could be silent no more. "Death's got it in for us because Mikey had a dream? What do ya suggest, send a muffin basket and ask please not to chase us with high explosives any more?"

Splinter regarded him impassively and after a moment Raph hung his head. "Sorry Sensei."

"I understand Raphael. It is frustrating when your enemy cannot be fought with fists. Nor can you gain victory through logic, or trickery, or through appealing to honour. But that Leonardo still lives – this gives me a sense of hope. This trial may be overcome after all."

Leo looked at his brothers, a little ashamed to have lived when Raph was still in danger. "So, what do we know?"

"You're the safest one here," said Donnie. "If you've been taken off the list then Raph's in the most danger, then it'll be me then Mikey."

"I'm not so sure," said Mike. "I mean, Leo's not immortal or anything. Cheating death doesn't mean you live forever. It just means we can't tell for sure when he goes up to the big aquarium in the sky. But we know Raph's in danger; we have to watch for the signs."

"Signs?" Raph laughed but there was no humour in it. "I can see it now. I gotta use the little turtles room and someone sticks up a notice telling me the next person in there's gonna get sucked down by faulty plumbing. Yeah, great."

Mikey shook his head. "No literal signs. There was something – a feeling, an object or a noise or something that would give me a real bad feeling. I have to keep watching for them."

"That's just great." Raph rolled his eyes. "I just gotta wait. At least Casey never knew what hit him. Forget this."

Jumping to his feet, Raph managed three steps away from the others before Leo grabbed his wrist. "Where do you think you're going?"

Raph snatched his arm away and rounded on Leo. "I'm going out dancin', where do ya think? Yeesh, I'm gonna lift some weights!"

"That might not be a good idea Raph," said Donnie reluctantly. "Look at what happened to that girl…"

"What, you think my weights are gonna jump out and bite me with you guys right here?" Raph scowled mutinously.

"Being around people didn't help anyone else," replied Donnie.

Raph threw his arms into the air. "Fine! That's just fine! Why don't I just lock myself in a padded room in case something else comes to get me – wait! What if the padding comes loose and forces its way down my throat and chokes me? Couldn't have that!"

"Raphael!" Leo trailed after Raph as he stormed off toward the weight bench. "You can't get into a fist fight with Death!"

"If he comes near me, I'll rip his spine outta his asshole and feed it to Klunk!" To emphasise his point, Raph slammed a fist into the punch bag, which swung backwards violently. The seemingly unfrayed rope suddenly snapped in half, sending the heavy bag hurling backwards. It slammed against a low bench, which tipped sharply forward and sent the shuriken which had been left out there, forgotten during the latest crisis, flying in a lethal barrage toward Leo and Raph.

With a yell, the pair hit the floor and covered their heads as the shuriken whizzed above their heads, embedding themselves into the furniture around the lair or losing momentum and clattering to the floor.

Raph peeked out from under his arms, eyeing the damage to the already tattered furnishings. "Um, about that padded room…?"

**&!&!&!&!&**

Darren Davis was in trouble.

He ducked around a corner, hearing the sirens as they grew ever nearer – and worse, in the distance were the sounds of a police helicopter. He was in the worst trouble of his life.

And it wasn't even like it was his fault! He was being unfairly persecuted, that was what it was.

Two years before, he had met another man in a bar, played a few rounds of pool with him and they had fallen to chatting about big business. Big business, explained the man, was the reason why the country was in the state it was in. The rich only got richer and the poor working class guys, like them, were crapped on time and again. The implication was that if the business world were to suffer some kind of calamity then the world would be a better, fairer place to live.

The man introduced himself as Scout and informed Darren that he was part of a group dedicated to doing just that; bringing down the huge corporations that made material wealth the biggest prize and the hardest thing in modern life. The difference between their group and the other dippy-hippy ones confided Scout, was that they weren't a lot of talk and hot air. Giving out leaflets and crying into a void wasn't their style. Less talk, more action.

Darren, idealistic, more than a little drunk and coming down with a mild case of hero-worship, agreed to meet with the others in the group. And things had spiralled from there. Somehow, he had found himself drawn into the group, planning, scheming. The targets had been chosen with care, the dates, the methods. The plan took a lot of work, but it had finally been coming together before the shit hit the fan.

Melina, beautiful, leggy Melina who spoke of revolution and equality. Melina, who understood the implications of their acts more than he did. Melina, who could preach their ideologies until only a fool would disagree with her – Melina was an informant. She had sold them all out to the cops and that night, the full wrath of the NYPD had fallen on them.

Darren had fled the building, sheer luck allowing him to escape when the others were captured, luck that allowed him to grab the dynamite that was the physical evidence of their plans.

Now his luck was running out.

Leaning against the wall, breathing heavily and cursing his twenty a day cigarette habit, Darren tried to think. It was clear he wasn't getting away. They were after him, determined to take him down. All he could do was be chased down, or surrender…

Or he could try a little distraction and see if it helped his escape.

Darren looked down at the rucksack he carried, stuffed with dynamite. More than enough to cause some serious damage. If only he were somewhere he could fire it up without problems – but although he was in the warehouse district, he didn't want to risk hurting someone, even if it was a cop, not to mention that these weren't the people they had been targeting. The owners of the warehouse were working stiffs like him and no one became a working class hero by torching the only assets of the poor.

The sirens closed in, coming ever closer to his hiding place on the corner of Eastman and Laird.

And then Darren saw what might just be his lifeline.

There was a manhole nearby, the lid caught on something and not properly closed again. Darren had no way of knowing that it had been opened the night before by a man named Casey Jones, whose thoughts were too filled with his own sorrow to notice that he had done a bad job of covering his tracks. All he knew that it was a place to unload the dynamite – and perhaps the distraction he was looking for.

Had he been thinking properly instead of panicking, he might have crept into the sewers himself, but the idea was so alien that it didn't even occur to him. Instead, he rushed for the manhole, dragging it open with an effort, willing whatever deity might be watching over him to allow him just a few more seconds.

Taking his cigarette lighter from his pocket, he opened the rucksack, held the flame to the fuse for a moment until it caught alight, then dropped the entire bag into the sewer and ran for his life.

The resulting explosion tore up half the asphalt, sending chunks of concrete raining on the surrounding area. The tremors knocked Darren off his feet and a particularly heavy slab of sidewalk crushed his skull to pulp before he could scramble back to his feet.

Below the street surface, pipes burst, tunnels collapsed and sewers for two miles around backed up violently. The city council would have a six month headache fervently trying to undo the damage that occurred.

And anyone living within the blast zone would have a more immediate headache to worry about.

**&!&!&!&!&**

Raph sat moodily on the couch, apparently ignoring the conversation going on around him. Mike had opted to perch on the back of the couch, Leo had taken an arm and Don had fortunately sat next to Raph, in order to stop Mike upending the furniture. The shuriken had been removed from their resting places and by unspoken agreement, three of the turtles had done a quick sweep of the lair, removing all the weapons and hiding them in Leo's room, where they were least likely to do anyone any damage.

Splinter sat in his own chair, walking stick laid across his knees, regarding them all gravely. He seemed to be as lost for ideas as they were and that worried all of them. Splinter _never_ ran out of ideas. He always knew of _something_ that could be done.

Donnie rubbed his forehead as if fighting off a headache. "Nature abhors a vacuum – you know that saying, right?"

Mike shot Don a sideways look. "And this is relevant how?"

"Because it might explain why we're dying. What nature abhors, it disposes of."

"I always knew the world had it in for me," muttered Raph bleakly.

"That's not what I mean either. Some people say that destiny, fate, isn't determined by chance or choice, but because every move, everything we ever do, is already decided for us. But what if there's a way to change those events and Mike somehow tapped into that, found out about it? That means we should be dead already and our existence is messing up a lot of other plans. Our lives touch other people's lives. Think about it; Hun's death will cause a war within the Dragons and Karai's will cause on in the Foot. But those wars should have been going on since the stadium disaster. Because of the delay, there might be people still alive who would have died or events that haven't happened that should have. Us dying is nature's way of restoring the balance."

Raph shrugged. "I think I preferred Master Splinter's explanation about Death being pissed at us."

"And it hardly matters." Leo stared at the ceiling, a scowl darkening his features. "My death was skipped over because I was saved. But that wouldn't make sense, because I'm still messing up things by being alive according to your theory Don. Does that mean we just have to wait for nature to realise we cheated death _again_ so it can come after us _again_ or is surviving twice somehow – cancelling out the debt?"

Don shook his head slowly. "I don't know."

"Anyway," Raph broke in. "Those shuriken we just ducked. If you're right about Leo being off the list because Mike saved him, then doesn't that mean _I'm_ off the list because they missed and we oughtta be looking out for Don?"

Mikey shook his head. "No, that doesn't feel right."

Raph glared at him. "Doesn't feel right? What are you talking about?"

"Those shurikens wouldn't have killed you. Shurikens are used as a distraction, not a weapon, and you know it."

"About twenty just flew at my head!"

"Well, maybe they would have – knocked you backwards and you dropped a sai then fell over Klunk and tripped and fell on it and it got an artery or – I don't know! I just know that a few shuriken wouldn't have killed you and that doesn't count as a near death experience. Leo _would _have been killed though. I just – I don't know why."

Don looked up at Mikey. "But I have kind of a theory…"

For the first time, the three turtles looked hopeful and Splinter raised his head, his features close to a smile that Don couldn't return. "You won't like it."

"We don't have anything else to go on," said Leo. "Try us."

"Well – if we can strike our names from the list by cheating death a second time, then maybe we can manufacture the conditions that would be involved in that."

Raph raised an eye ridge and regarded Don suspiciously. "I don't like where this is going Don."

"Manufacture the same conditions?" Leo stared incredulously at his smart brother. "You mean – you want to recreate a situation that could _kill us_?"

Don sighed. "I know it sounds out there, but hear me out. If we can die – _clinically_ die – we can be brought back to life and as far as Death is concerned, we're already deceased and we're off the list!"

Mike tried a half hearted smile. "You guys are always threatening to kill me."

Leo shook his head emphatically. "No, no way Donnie. It's too dangerous. There's too much that could go wring, too many variables…"

"And it's not your decision to make Leo," said Raph. "You're already off the list; it's not you with a death sentence on ya. I say, I'll try it out and if you can bring me back it should be safe to work on Mike and Donnie – uh-oh."

"There's no reason why any of you can't bring me back," said Donnie carefully, obviously having already realised what Raphael had considered. "You all know most of this stuff already and I can show you how it works for the stuff you don't."

"You're going to _kill_ yourselves to cheat Death?" Leo jumped to his feet and began to pace. "Have you any idea how crazy that sounds?"

"Leonardo." Splinter raised a hand and Leo stopped, although he was obviously still agitated. "There are no other options. We must do what we have to – to save our family."

Leo bowed his head, his eyes closing, pausing for a moment before looking up, his expression determined. "Alright. We'll do this – but Don, you talk me through everything. _Everything. _If even one thing goes wrong…"

"Nothing's gonna go wrong Leo," said Raph impatiently. "And hell, if it does we're not much worse off."

"There'd better not be any of those funky Flatliners dreams," muttered Mikey.

Raph ignored him. "So Don, ready to do this?"

"You bet." The pair rose from the couch at the same time, leaving the weight wholly on the back where Mikey sat and causing gravity to take over and dump him and the couch on the floor.

"Yowch!"

In spite of the serious situation, Leo smiled. "That's what you get for sitting on the back of…"

Mike interrupted him, spying something previously hidden by the couch. "Hey, my Catwoman comic! I wondered where this had gone!"

Grabbing the comic, he flipped through the pages, his cheer fading as he came to a page in the middle. Catwoman was trapped in a car in a river, unable to open the door to escape until the pressure within the vehicle was equal to that outside. Suddenly a chill came over him.

"Don't you think we have more important things to worry about?" asked Leonardo, not unkindly.

"Guys," said Mikey flatly. "I have a really bad feeling…"

There was a rumble from the tunnels around them and all the turtles looked around nervously. Unconsciously, Raph let his hands drop to his sai. "What was that?"

Donnie looked over to the sewer entrance of the lair. "I don't li…"

His words were drowned out by a series of crashing sounds as the tunnel outside the lair collapsed, leaving a cloud of dust blocking their exit.

Leonardo whipped his head around, looking over at his brothers. "Raph, back away. _Now._"

"But –"

There was a scream of tortured metal from the pipes above their heads and suddenly one of them gave way, shooting water across the floor of the lair.

Raph looked up, startled. "What the shell is going on?"

"Something in the sewer system," replied Don, looking down at the water spreading around his feet. "But it had to be something really major for –"

Another pipe gave way, spraying more water around them. And then another, something darker and less pleasant than mere rain run-off emerging from it at high speed.

"My equipment!" Donnie headed toward the computers, suddenly determined to shut off all the power. The consequences could be disastrous if the water became electrified – and the death sentence they were under suddenly seemed realer than ever before.

Leonardo could feel the situation begin to get away from him. "Raphael, get away from here, get into the upper levels _now_."

Raph bristled. "Just a –"

"_NOW!!"_

Recognising the tone in Leo's voice as part order and part plea, Raph took off toward the ladder leading to the upper levels.

"Donatello, get away from there!" said Splinter sharply as Donnie reached out to shut off the power.

"I'm fine as long as Raph…" Donnie cut off the words sharply, his arm hesitating a moment as he recognised the implications of his words.

Still hanging on to Catwoman, Mikey stared around in shock. The exit was a no-go, the elevator was a really stupid idea – and the water was ankle deep and still rising.

Death wasn't coming. Death was here.

Something made him glance up at the pipes. A fourth let go, this one more sluggish than the others, the metal sagging listlessly from the ceiling. A wide split suddenly yawned open at another part of the pipe, causing the whole thing to creak dangerously, unable to maintain its own weight for much longer.

Looking back down, Mike realised Raph's retreat would lead him directly below it in a matter of seconds.

"_Raph!"_

The pipe tore loose from the ceiling, plummeting down. Raphael realised at the last moment that some thing was heading to him and tried to outrun it, but the pipe caught him on the back of the shell and knocked him flying forward – right into the pool that marked the access to the submerged tunnels. The pipe hit the floor, rolled and fell right in after him.

"_RAPH!!"_

Mikey raced after Raph, ignoring Leo's panicked yells, taking a deep breath and diving straight into the murky river water. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, his body protesting the sudden change in temperature. But a second was all he needed; below him he could see Raphael, the pipe that had knocked him over pushing him further into the water and preventing him from resurfacing. Raph hadn't had chance to take a breath before being knocked into the water, air bubbles escaping from his mouth. As Mikey watched, he was forced to suck in water and began to drown.

_No way. No way am I losing Raph._

Mike swam down desperately, noticing how Raph thrashed around trying to escape the drag of the pipe. Raphael was going to die right there.

Redoubled his efforts, Mikey drew level with Raph as he sank, realising that he wasn't going to be able to shift the heavy pipe in time. Instead, he grabbed Raph's leg and using all his strength, yanked at it. Raphael floated toward him with surprising ease, the pipe continuing downward as Raph was pulled from beneath it.

Wrapping an arm around Raph, noting his brothers bulging eyes and desperately clenched jaw, Mike shot toward the surface as fast as he could go, wondering if it would make any difference at all. Raph's movements were weakening rapidly and he made no attempt to help Mike in their quest out of the water…

And then Mike broke the surface, releasing the air he had been holding in his lungs and taking a deeper one, releasing the second in one shout.

"_Leo! Donnie!"_

But it was Splinter who was there to help him pull Raphael out of the water, Splinter who dragged Raph while Mikey hoisted his brother out of the water and scrambled over the edge himself, shocked at just how deep the water in the lair had gotten. It had been to his ankles before, now it was to his knees. And Raph wasn't moving… wasn't breathing.

Mike lifted Raph by the armpits and dragged him onto the bridge that crossed the pool, alternately muttering pleas and threats, Splinter right behind him.

"Come on Raph, come _on_, you can't die on me, _breathe_ Raphie, just _breathe, BREATHE RAPH BREATHE!_"

The moment that Mike lay Raph down on the bridge, Splinter shoved him forcibly out of the way, putting his hands on Raph's plastron and starting CPR. Mikey stared as Splinter slammed hard on Raphael's plastron, trying to get through the tough exterior to inflate the lungs under the surface.

"Michelangelo!"

Mikey gazed at Raph, wondering just how his much-adored brother could look so lifeless when he was usually brimming with energy…

"_Michelangelo!"_

"S-Sensei?"

"You have to give Raphael mouth to mouth – I can't."

Mikey blinked, realising what Splinter was saying. The rat had a snout and a smallish mouth, unsuited to the beak that the turtles had. There was no way that he could form a seal over Raph's mouth, only one of the other turtles was capable of that.

Mikey dived over and blew hard into Raph's mouth.

"Carefully!" Splinter put a hand on Mikey's shell and pulled him away, continuing with the chest compressions, muttering under his breath. "Do it again!"

Mikey leant over and blew into Raph's mouth again, wondering crazily if Raph would kick his shell for this if he lived through it. Or if their brothers would tease them mercilessly. Even though he knew it was doubtful, his mind was coming up with the freaky conversational possibilities, making him wonder if he was going insane. Surely there were more pressing things to worry about than if Leo and Don would indulge in too many 'brotherly love' jokes...

...And then Raph coughed, spitting up a glut of water. Splinter turned the turtles head to one side to prevent the fluid going back down his throat and Raph took a shaky inhalation before giving out a series of pained coughs, more water emerging from his mouth. His breaths were shaky and irregular, but they were there. Raphael might have been drowning, but now he was going to live.

_This just might mean he's off the list - and the next person on it is Donatello!_

Mikey leapt to his feet as Raphael opened his eyes, looking frantically for his two brothers. They were over near the computer desk, battling the rising tide of water, which by now was rising further up their legs. Leo's actions had stopped Don from trying to shut down the power and Mikey's sudden movement attracted their attention to the hithero unnoticed drama going on by the pool. Seeing Raph down and seemingly out of commission, they both started to run toward the rest of the family.

A chunk of concrete fell from the ceiling without warning, landing on the edge of the computer table and sending equipment flying. Wires ripped from their plugs, negating the immediate worry of electrocution. A second chunk landed directly in front of Don and without pausing, he snatched his bo and lodged it onto the ground, the end catching between debris hidden beneath the rising waters and using it to turn his momentum 180 degrees. The concrete missed him by inches and he paused for a brief second to pull his bo from the debris, where it had become jammed, yanking his bandana down around his neck as the water weighted it down and impaired his vision.

At the same time, the fallen rubble that had cut the lair entrance off and caused the water to be trapped within suddenly shifted under the pressure, several gaps appearing through which the liquid could escape. The rapid outpouring was reminiscent of unplugging a bath; the water rushed toward the new exit and took with it anything that had previously been floating atop it.

Donnie had been distracted only a moment, but a moment was all it took. The shift of the water took him by surprise, sweeping his feet from underneath him. His shell brushed against the bo as he went, the bandana that had been loose around his neck catching the staff and slipping down the length, trapping both Don and the bo within its circle.

Don didn't realise what had happened until his butt hit the floor and the rushing water pulled him along. The bo had lodged tightly and although Don's weight shifted it slightly, it did not move from its vertical angle. But the speed of the water yanked Don forcibly toward the exit - the only thing keeping him in place being the bandana pulled tight against his windpipe.

It was more like manual strangulation than hanging, the extra force against the fabric that the water caused exerting more pressure on Don's neck and acting much more rapidly than had he been over a gap. Frantically he reached behind him to grab the bo, hoping to heave himself backward and relieve the pressure long enough to rescue himself, but the wood was wet and with no way to brace his feet against the gushing water, his hands kept slipping. Every time he tried, his face was submerged beneath the water.

Dragged against the tide, Don felt his strength begin to ebb alarmingly rapidly. His struggles became feebler and the fire ignited as he tried to snatch some breath through the pinhole that his agonised throat had become was excruciating. The pressure building within his head was immense, as if the blood was gathering there and would any minute start gushing from his nose, mouth and ears... or maybe his head would just explode, although he knew it was scientifically impossible. Even his eyes were warm and as he tried to blink, his vision began to turn red.

_"Donnie!"_

Leo's voice cut through the lair as he struggled against the water. Seeing he would never be able to get there in time, he pulled the katana from his back and hurled it in the direction of his brother. The blade hit the bo at the point where the purple bandana was caught, lodging in the wood - and severing the material. Don escaped from the grip of the trap just as his struggles were fading to little more than sporadic twitches. He was carried with the water, but by now most of it had escaped into the sewers and the trail was sluggish and shallow. He barely drifted three feet before gently fetching up against the wall and staying there, the momentum of the water spent.

Leo got to Don first, Mikey a short distance behind, Raphael managing to roll onto his elbow and watching from a distance with worried eyes, Splinter with him. Mike glanced down at where Don's head, looking strangely vulnerable without the mask in place, rested in Leo's lap. There were ugly marks on Donnie's neck which were bound to bruise and his eyes were bloodshot but he was breathing, albeit in harsh, pained gasps.

"Will he be...?"

"He'll be fine." Leo glanced up, eyes filled with worry. "Mikey, that was too close. He should be dead!"

Mikey backed away in a hurry. "Don't come near me - if he's cheated death, then I'm the next on the..."

Another rumble from the tunnels drew their attention as in the distance, more debris fell loose. The tremors loosened another piece of the ceiling of the lair, which plummeted to ground, landing at an angle on the still upright bo. Giving in to the strain, the bo snapped, bottom half still jammed in the mess on the floor, the top flying across the lair like a javelin.

There was another distant, ominous sound of collapsing tunnels, but within the lair save for the sounds made by the mutants, all was finally quiet. And the sounds of falling were not caused by debris this time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author Note: **And here it is - the epilogue of FDRF. Thanks to everyone for reading, especially those who took a moment to review. Special thanks go to the gals on the TT site for helping me out with some medical information, as well as to Lioness-Goddess for her fabulous earlier beta and Pi for help in that area too. I'm hoping to be back soon with another chapter fic, so I'll see ya then!

**&!&!&!&!&**

Splinter glanced up at the Northampton skyline. It was another beautiful day, the sun warm, not a cloud in the sky. There were those who thought a day set aside for remembrances of the dead should be overcast and dull, possibly raining, as if nature itself mourned the loss. But the events of the past month had taught Splinter that nature, like Death, was indifferent to the sufferings and hopes of an individual, their triumphs and their sorrows. Their intent was to remember and to thank those individuals who during their lives had brought some sunshine with them. Perhaps the weather would aid them in recalling that their friends were missed because of that sunshine and to think of that rather than the sorrow that they were no longer able to.

"Sensei?"

Raphael approached Splinter, his demeanour unusually sombre. "The others are waiting. You sure you wanna do this?"

"Although I wish it was not necessary, it is what I want to do." Splinter gripped his walking stick and set off walking toward the woods, Raph keeping pace with him. The other turtles were waiting at the edge of the woods, their faces identical masks of solemnity and sadness, the tails of their bandanas stirring slightly in the breeze.

There was a pause as they stood in a line, then Leonardo took the unspoken cue and began to speak.

"We've lost a lot of people whom we were proud to call our friends. Angel, April, Casey – they all made our lives better and for that, we'll never forget them. I just wish we could mourn them properly, separately, as they deserve. But we can't. All we can do is to remember them and thank them."

He paused, staring at the ground and struggling to keep his composure. A moment later, he felt the weight of Raph's hand on his shoulder and gave him a grateful look before continuing.

"And it's even harder to mourn them when we feel one loss more than theirs… it's just… it's not fair everything that happened, it had to end that way."

_Amen to that_ thought Raphael, struggling against bitter anger. This was not the time. Instead he looked past Leo to where there brother stood, more accurately, the beautifully decorated container hugged tightly against his plastron.

_Leo glanced up, eyes filled with worry. "Mikey, that was too close. He should be dead!"_

_Mikey backed away in a hurry. "Don't come near me - if he's cheated death, then I'm the next on the..."_

_Another rumble from the tunnels drew their attention as in the distance, more debris fell loose. The tremors loosened another piece of the ceiling of the lair, which plummeted to ground, landing at an angle on the still upright bo. Giving in to the strain, the bo snapped, half still jammed in the mess on the floor._

_The top of the bo flipped across the lair, the splintered end where it had broken off lethally sharp and the trajectory deadly accurate. It punched through the side of Mikey's neck, momentum carrying it through the muscle and sinew until the obstacle halted it before it could emerge from the other side, although the skin there bulged out from the invader. Mikey's eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he registered the pain - but there was barely time for that and the light was dying from his eyes even as his body fell forward. He landed on his knees and fell to the side, making no attempt to use his hands to brace himself. The side of his head struck the floor with a loud smack, the force driving the end of the bo finally through the opposite side of his neck with a wet, tearing sound. _

"_MIKEY!"_

_Leo would have dropped Donnie's head if the other turtle hadn't been making a feeble attempt to rest on his elbows. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and raced over to where Mike was lying, his hands hesitating for a brief second as he wondered if his attempts to help would injure Mikey further – then he decided there was little that would hurt him further and took his brothers hands in his own, kneeling low in front of him so Mikey could see he wasn't alone. _

"_Mikey!"_

_Raph's voice was hoarse, but filled with anguish and without looking, Leo knew that he was making his way over, no near drowning keeping Raphael away. But there wasn't going to be time._

_Mikey's eyes slipped closed, then opened again, blood spilling over his lips as they moved, trying to speak although there was no way he would be able to make any sound. _

_Leo leant closer, trying to read the words. Mikey gasped out another glut of blood and tried again. And this time Leo realised what he was saying. _

_Then his eyes closed and without ceremony, Mikey died. _

_Leo turned and looked up at Raph, stood behind him, resting his hands on his knees. Donnie was standing behind Raphael, bruises already flowering on his neck, his eyes on the floor. And beside them, Splinter was looking grave, his eyes on Mikey's still form._

_Leonardo closed his eyes and shook his head._

Donatello kept hold of the container that Mikey's ashes were in while Leo lapsed into silence, trying to find the right words to say. By unspoken agreement, it had been decided that Mikey's remains should not be kept in the sewers with them, but scattered above ground. Mikey had loved life and it seemed more appropriate to say their goodbyes where there was plenty of it.

Splinter had been the one who dealt with Mikey's body afterwards, shooing the three survivors away and leaving Leo to deal with their injuries while he prepared Mike for what came next. It had always seemed that Splinter had been able to make peace with Death that day, although he had aged in behaviour and appearance without Mike's presence. But the turtles needed more.

"Mikey saved us," Leo suddenly announced, his words coming out in bursts like machine gun fire. "He made us leave the stadium even though we didn't believe him. He tried to do something to save our friends and he put himself in danger to save us again – if it wasn't for what Mikey did, we'd all be dead now."

"The last thing Mikey said… he said _end of list_. He was trying to tell me – to reassure us, even though he was dying – trying to tell me that he was the last person on the list. That we were safe because he was dead. And I would rather have Mike back than my own safety, but I know it gave him some peace. To know that we were safe and that his dying was proof of that… because he couldn't go until we were dead or safe…"

Leo broke off again and Raph gave him a worried look, wondering if Fearless Leader was going to be able to do this.

Leo cleared his throat and then continued. "What Mikey did for us – he gave us a gift. He gave us a future. And it's up to us to make the most of what he gave us and to make the most of that future, just like he would – if he were with us."

There were a few moments of silence, then Donnie stepped forward with the container, not wanting the moment to end because what he held in his hands was the last physical trace of his brother and as soon as he let it go, there would be nothing left of Michelangelo left at all. But Splinter was reaching out to take the container and after a moment of hesitation that was a fraction of a moment too long to go unnoticed, Donnie handed the container open.

Splinter took the box, inclining his head at Don slightly in a gesture of both understanding and comfort, before opening the cover. As he did so, he remembered some of the times they had spent as a family in the farmhouse owned by Casey Jones. A place unknown to the Foot and the Purple Dragons, a place of sanctuary. The scene of Casey asking for his help to win the heart of April, a place where his fun-loving son could run around in the great outdoors like the normal teenager he never complained that he wasn't. Without Casey as owner of the property, it was unlikely that they would be returning under such circumstances again. Their world had become a safer place without their enemies, but a sadder one too now that their family was smaller.

So thinking, he tipped the box and let Mikey's ashes fall. The breeze caught them, dispersing the dark cloud into the air and breaking them up, hitting their skin or the ground and crumbling there, or being carried further into the air. Within seconds, there was no sign that they had done anything.

Splinter replaced the lid on the box. Silence reigned as the four mused on their own thoughts.

After a while, Splinter raised his head and made his excuses, returning to the farmhouse. As someone given to both insight and tact, he realised there were some experiences that he had not shared with his four sons and that a discreet withdrawal might be in order.

Splinter's absence made no difference at first, none of the turtles willing to break the silence of the moment, ruin the solemnity through some clumsy statement that could never explain how they felt.

Donnie raised his head to look into the sky, noting the few clouds and slight breeze, the warm sun and the faint sounds of nature and a distant light aircraft giving the background. "Mikey would have liked this."

"Mikey would have taken in a mouthful of ashes the moment Splinter dropped them," said Raph and immediately wished he hadn't. The observation had just escaped without thought.

But Leo's mouth curled at the corners. "Yeah, just like Mikey."

"It just wasn't like him to notice anything as mundane as what was happening around him," said Don, smiling a little himself. "There was always something much better going on in his own thoughts."

"He got real carried away with them too," added Raph.

"It's hard not to catch his enthusiasm…" Leo began with a grin and then his happy expression wilted a little and the silence they had previously been in returned.

"I miss him," said Raph simply.

Donnie nodded sombrely. "Me too. I miss all of them. I – I don't know where we're supposed to go from here."

"We go forward," said Leo determinedly. "We do what Mikey would have done; remember our loved ones and never forgetting that we're still alive – and that they would want us to treasure that."

He thought the others would argue with him, or maybe say it was impossible, or just not bother to reply. But Raph was nodding his head, agreeing with every word.

"We keep it together," said Raph, holding out his hand, palm down. "For Mikey."

"For Mikey," agreed Donnie, putting his hand atop Raph's.

"For Mikey," finished Leo, joining them. For a moment he looked at the differing shades of green that made the physical form of their pact. It seemed wrong somehow without Mikey's distinctive colourings among them.

They dropped their hands and a change went through the atmosphere. It was time to leave the past behind and see what the future held. The mourning period was over.

Donatello opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it and shut up. Raph looked at him irritably. "You've been doing that for days Don. If there's something on your mind, spit it out."

Don shook his head. "I was just thinking. Mike worked out that the deaths came in the order he saw them in – even Karai knew something was going on and all she heard was Mikey shouting about the accident beforehand and did some research. I was just wondering about her research, why out of the others who had a premonition of disaster like Mikey's, none of them could work it out when they could."

"We didn't believe it either," Leo pointed out. "Karai wasn't as close to it as we were and Mikey – well, he knew what he knew, he didn't have the luxury of choosing to believe or not. And we're more used to seeing the unbelievable than most humans are. Perhaps they realised, but didn't know the near-death experience would take them off the list. There are a lot of things that could have happened to them Don and all we can do is second guess."

"Maybe there _were_ some others who worked out the order and we just don't know about 'em," added Raph. "Not much ya can tell from old newspapers and statistics."

"I guess so," said Donnie, about to add something else when the noise from the light aircraft over head suddenly drowned out his words. "Hey, what the…?"

The three turtles looked up, shading their eyes against the sunlight. The aircraft, large enough to hold maybe two people, was directly over head, flying surprisingly low considering the trees and the houses nearby.

As they watched, the engine stopped. There was no warning – the sound was suddenly gone. And the plane was plummeting toward them.

Leonardo took a step backward, his mind suddenly transported to the night the balloon had crashed down onto the stadium, the same night so many people had died and they had lived thanks to Mikey's premonition. Like the night that he had lived because of Mikey's foreknowledge that he was being targeted by some force they couldn't comprehend.

He would never know if Mikey would have seen this coming.

The plane was small enough to see minimum casualties in the surrounding area, large enough so it was unlikely they had time to outrun it. There was nowhere to go.

Donnie had been right. There was no solution, no way to escape their fate. Mikey's death had merely sent the circle going around again.

Starting with Leo.

With less than three seconds gone since the plane began its fall, the structure gave in to some internal issue and the cabin burst into flames. Leo imagined he could hear the pilot scream, but knew it had to be in his head.

Raphael, standing a foot or so behind him, Donnie a couple of metres further on. Both of them slated to die too. Splinter back at the house, having never been at the stadium, never in danger unless they were around for some kind of celestial target practice.

There would be no rest. Only fear, only constant vigilance, until they were taken – if there were any way out of this. It didn't look like it. The heat from the flaming ball that the plane was rapidly becoming made his skin flushed even from the distance. Not enough distance for escape.

No escape. Death was coming for them.

Swords drawn, Leo stepped forward to greet it.

**The End.**


End file.
